the word of the day is: snow

               The East Coast has had its fair share of snowstorms this winter. Just before Christmas we saw two feet of snow descend upon Philadelphia and discovered our dear city has a staggering ONE snowplow to make all its streets navigable. Virginia shut down roads for that one.  Merry Christmas, everyone.

                Dear January was not about to let December have all the fun and thus Heather and I embarked for DC in a snowstorm of not-quite epic proportions, but the sort just big enough to turn a quick drive into a five hour trek. Yay God for safety is all I can say, because we survived unplowed roads, horrid driving conditions, a brief stint of non-functioning wiper fluid and a minor pitfall of a giant hill and a lot of snow. (Yay God also for friendly people in DC who helped us maneuver our van up aforementioned hill and make it to our hotel.)

                Just like the post comes rain or shine, so do apparently YouthWorks staff. While we managed to make it to DC, DC unfortunately didn’t manage to make it so well and church was cancelled on Sunday morning.

                By Monday, however, the city was back in full swing, albeit running just a little behind on the morning commute. We joined the hustle and bustle with a stop in to visit Donald Page at CCNV, who reminded us, “This isn’t any snow… wait til it’s up to your neck… then that’s snow.” True, Mr. Page, but I’d like to argue snow is snow, especially when it’s sticking to your shoes and creating patches of ice on sidewalks.

                Still, we were able to navigate the city and meet with some ministry partners and friends at our housing sites during the next few days. Since the end of our trip, DC has not been so lucky.  Mr. Page got his snow as the blizzard last weekend came crashing in and shut the city down through this Wednesday.  Parts south of Pennsylvania including DC, had as much as 24 inches and we are still dodging piles of snow here in Philadelphia.

                We are due for another blizzard this evening and tomorrow. Please keep our friends and ministry partners all throughout the mid-Atlantic region, and now New England, in prayer as they attempt to bunker down for the storm and to provide warm shelter, clothing, and food for many in our Eastern communities.

- Lauren

 

We bowling–New York style (like the pizza)

After moving to a state that considers candlepin bowling on par with actual bowling, I was pretty sure I’d seen it all in the bowling world. I quickly learned how wrong I was when Heather and I visited one of Queen’s favorite activities directors, Jummy. In a room full of skill, craft, and lots of excitement, we had the chance to witness the fierce competition that is Madison York bowling.

Suffice it to say, neither Heather nor I are particularly adept at most sports. Combine that with crafty seniors with a good dose of moxie and the ensuing event is all kinds of beautiful. Add Jummy’s loud cheering and the senior’s competitive natures and the recipe for Madison York bowling is complete.

While Heather and I still have no idea how we did (Jummy was too worried learning our actual scores would cause for a rather difficult car ride home), we know the seniors showed us up well. Anyone planning a summer trip to Queens, be forewarned: hone your bowling skills beforehand.

Aside from being trounced in a bowling game, Heather and I also were able to visit friends at 1^st Presbyterian and 59^th St. Lutheran Brethren Church. We were able to catch up on the church events, get excited about the summer, and even hear about their own Youthworks trips in the making.

We got to see Arnie at the Norwegian Christian Home and celebrated January birthdays with a Russian singer and chocolate cake. At the Center for Family Life, Smilie caught us up to date on the center’s happenings and we even stopped by Coney Island to see if it was still there.

-Lauren

 

heartbeats.

Harrisburg is home to: a Capitol building, a parade of cows, the Pennsylvania Farm Show, 47, 178 people and more recently, Youthworks. It is the crossroads to the world (or at least the East coast): DC, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Swatara Church of God. It is the crossroads of history—a resting place for Native American traders, a stopping place on the Underground Railroad, and for tens of thousands of troops during the Civil War and for 15-passenger vans on Sunday summer afternoons. This year it will celebrate its 150^th anniversary.

Throughout the city signs of the SusqueCentennial are everywhere. (Some literally) On the banner that hangs downtown outside a window front boasting a list of committee member’s names, or the ones noting important historical landmark’s all across the city. There are the 150 murals that will be painted—splayed across the city by the hands of neighbors and students and business owners. There are plans for family reunions in celebration of an Old Home Week which started in 1905 to remind people how beautiful their city was. And there’s the calendar hanging on walls like Mr. Bill’s with pictures of Harrisburg throughout the last 150 years.

It’d be easy to overlook the day-to-day in the midst of this, but even more than the banners, I found the heart of this SusqueCentennial beating steady and strong right in the middle of Harrisburg. A heartbeat, I realized, sounds just like people.

 It is there in the church of Swatara excited to serve those this summer coming to serve and in a man leading a neighborhood focus initiative to partner law enforcement and business owners and families to care for their blocks. It’s in college graduates who move in and start programs that teach neighborhood kids to garden and the people running co-op gardens that provide teenagers summer jobs. And in so many after-school programs that tutor and mentor and play and love.

There it is in housing rehabs that are going green and the people providing warm coats, toothbrushes and socks to the homeless. Hear it in nurses who walk around giving flu shots or the man who sits on his front porch greeting the neighbors. In the church with the doors open to the community and the seniors at Derry St UMC who make THOUSANDS (like, oh, 36,000) of chocolate eggs every Easter as a fundraiser. You’ll find it in the dreams for clean streets, a stage, more vegetables, or even a circus.

There it is. Beat. Beat. Beat. Steady, proud, true.

It is good to know when the banners come down and the pretty calendar photographs run out that Harrisburg will continue on.

- Lauren