<\/h5>\nIt brought back a flood of memories for me. I was with Angelique’s mother, Drema,\u00a0 in Sierra Maestra last October about the time Iliancie discovered she was pregnant. She has truly captured the spirit of the covenant we have with our sister churches in Cuba. I shall never again look at an egg without remembering.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nThe Measure of a Year<\/a><\/h3>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0A huge storm hit home this week. \u00a0Not only did Tropical Storm Debby\u00a0reek\u00a0havoc on our city, a storm of a different nature has also been blowing, wildly through my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0This week we\u00a0received\u00a0news that close pastor friends of ours from Guanito, Cuba, Pastor Alexei and Pastora Iliancie, brought into the world, their first child. \u00a0Much like the waters from the storm surged in to flood our streets, emotions of a year since my trip to Cuba have surged and\u00a0seized\u00a0my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0I remember the day we met the Pastors, it was the\u00a0beginning\u00a0of our trip and they had just arrived from a long and difficult <\/span>journey to arrive to Havana to meet my Mother and our group. \u00a0They had breakfast with us and we had brought some peanut butter with us and Iliancie\u00a0ate\u00a0some for the first time. It was love at first bite with her and that jar of peanut butter! \u00a0We spent the entire morning with them as they came with us while we ran our errands around Old Havana, exchanging currency and picking up some supplies for our week ahead. \u00a0They were such a vibrant couple singing out in joy and thanking God for the blessing of our team.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n![\"The](\"http:\/\/3.bp.blogspot.com\/-DLhCSSUO5AA\/T-3Y5dp9_YI\/AAAAAAAABnI\/lc0WjAje-cw\/s320\/268564_10101208401046431_2341489_n.jpg\" "\\"The")
<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n![\"The](\"http:\/\/1.bp.blogspot.com\/-sjUfoCsYCQ4\/T-3Y58rxG1I\/AAAAAAAABnQ\/Hzr-SjJvTYY\/s320\/269083_10101208400587351_2361286_n.jpg\" "\\"The")
<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\nThe Measure of a Year<\/a><\/h3>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0A huge storm hit home this week. \u00a0Not only did Tropical Storm Debby\u00a0reek\u00a0havoc on our city, a storm of a different nature has also been blowing, wildly through my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0This week we\u00a0received\u00a0news that close pastor friends of ours from Guanito, Cuba, Pastor Alexei and Pastora Iliancie, brought into the world, their first child. \u00a0Much like the waters from the storm surged in to flood our streets, emotions of a year since my trip to Cuba have surged and\u00a0seized\u00a0my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0I remember the day we met the Pastors, it was the\u00a0beginning\u00a0of our trip and they had just arrived from a long and difficult <\/span>journey to arrive to Havana to meet my Mother and our group. \u00a0They had breakfast with us and we had brought some peanut butter with us and Iliancie\u00a0ate\u00a0some for the first time. It was love at first bite with her and that jar of peanut butter! \u00a0We spent the entire morning with them as they came with us while we ran our errands around Old Havana, exchanging currency and picking up some supplies for our week ahead. \u00a0They were such a vibrant couple singing out in joy and thanking God for the blessing of our team.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0A huge storm hit home this week. \u00a0Not only did Tropical Storm Debby\u00a0reek\u00a0havoc on our city, a storm of a different nature has also been blowing, wildly through my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0This week we\u00a0received\u00a0news that close pastor friends of ours from Guanito, Cuba, Pastor Alexei and Pastora Iliancie, brought into the world, their first child. \u00a0Much like the waters from the storm surged in to flood our streets, emotions of a year since my trip to Cuba have surged and\u00a0seized\u00a0my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0I remember the day we met the Pastors, it was the\u00a0beginning\u00a0of our trip and they had just arrived from a long and difficult <\/span>journey to arrive to Havana to meet my Mother and our group. \u00a0They had breakfast with us and we had brought some peanut butter with us and Iliancie\u00a0ate\u00a0some for the first time. It was love at first bite with her and that jar of peanut butter! \u00a0We spent the entire morning with them as they came with us while we ran our errands around Old Havana, exchanging currency and picking up some supplies for our week ahead. \u00a0They were such a vibrant couple singing out in joy and thanking God for the blessing of our team.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0This week we\u00a0received\u00a0news that close pastor friends of ours from Guanito, Cuba, Pastor Alexei and Pastora Iliancie, brought into the world, their first child. \u00a0Much like the waters from the storm surged in to flood our streets, emotions of a year since my trip to Cuba have surged and\u00a0seized\u00a0my heart.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0I remember the day we met the Pastors, it was the\u00a0beginning\u00a0of our trip and they had just arrived from a long and difficult <\/span>journey to arrive to Havana to meet my Mother and our group. \u00a0They had breakfast with us and we had brought some peanut butter with us and Iliancie\u00a0ate\u00a0some for the first time. It was love at first bite with her and that jar of peanut butter! \u00a0We spent the entire morning with them as they came with us while we ran our errands around Old Havana, exchanging currency and picking up some supplies for our week ahead. \u00a0They were such a vibrant couple singing out in joy and thanking God for the blessing of our team.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0I remember the day we met the Pastors, it was the\u00a0beginning\u00a0of our trip and they had just arrived from a long and difficult <\/span>journey to arrive to Havana to meet my Mother and our group. \u00a0They had breakfast with us and we had brought some peanut butter with us and Iliancie\u00a0ate\u00a0some for the first time. It was love at first bite with her and that jar of peanut butter! \u00a0We spent the entire morning with them as they came with us while we ran our errands around Old Havana, exchanging currency and picking up some supplies for our week ahead. \u00a0They were such a vibrant couple singing out in joy and thanking God for the blessing of our team.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/a><\/div>\nEnjoying their first Peanut Butter and Jelly<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\nWhile we were riding in the bus, Iliancie complimented my sunglasses. \u00a0They were my oldest pair, and I brought them just in case they got lost or broke. As I looked at her glasses they were practically falling apart and the\u00a0tortoise\u00a0shell coating was flaking off. \u00a0The lenses were terribly scratched and it’s the only pair she had. \u00a0My heart sunk thinking about the 10 pairs of sunglasses I had at home. \u00a0I had regrets for not bringing them all. \u00a0I took off my sunglasses and I told her to have mine. \u00a0At first she refused saying she didn’t want to leave me without glasses and I said ok, then let’s trade. \u00a0Her face lit up and she put my sunglasses on and started doing a series of model poses. \u00a0She hugged me and showered me with kisses, and again she sang out thanking God through song.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/br><\/h5>\n<\/div>\n<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\nWithin a few minutes she had burst into tears along with the rest of us. \u00a0They\u00a0received\u00a0many gifts that day and the promise of more to come. \u00a0We brought money for them to take back to our sister church, sashes and runners for\u00a0their\u00a0pulpit and altar,\u00a0medicine, clothing and a laptop. \u00a0My mother would be returning that Fall, so I asked\u00a0the\u00a0Pastora to make a list of all the things they need that my mother can bring them. \u00a0She asked for fabric and sewing materials so that they could make dresses for their liturgical dancers and that they had a lady in the church who could sew them all by hand. \u00a0(When my mom returned that Fall, among many things, including peanut butter, she brought them a sewing machine. \u00a0With great joy they all celebrated for this wonderful gift, and they are now able to sew many things for the church and the community.)<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0That day started \u00a0a lifelong relationship between our family and theirs. \u00a0My mom sent the Pastora maternity clothes, baby clothes and a multitude of things throughout the year. \u00a0They write each other, and although I haven’t gotten to see them in a year, sometimes I hear Iliancie’s songs. \u00a0There are days, without reason, that I can feel my Cuban brothers and\u00a0sisters\u00a0fill my heart with prayers. For as much as I pray for them, many more of them continue to pray for me.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n\u00a0So how do I measure this year? \u00a0My emotions can be measured by the degrees of a storm. Fierce winds that rattle and shake me or a soft breeze that carries the songs and cries of my brothers and sisters in Cuba.<\/h4>\n<\/h5>\nSurely I could measure it in tears, those of happiness and of sorrow and longing for my brothers and sisters. I could measure it in laughter. \u00a0I think I will measure it in eggs. \u00a0I still think of Cuba every time I buy eggs, see them or eat them, and I am reminded that I can have as many as I want, at any given time. \u00a0I guess that here I can use eggs as a metaphor for blessings. \u00a0For as many eggs as I have, I am even more abundant in blessings.<\/h4>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
<\/a><\/div>\nThe Hyde Park UMC Team with Pastor Alexi<\/em><\/div>\n<\/br><\/h5>\n
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