Be Watchful

The following is written by Liz Skora, one of this year's Little Village Volunteers, for her community's Los Posadas Advent Reflections.

“Be Watchful! Be Alert! You do not know when the time will come.”
Mark 13:33

This honest reminder from Mark that we do not know when the time will come stirs up a sense of anxiety in my often impatient heart. I love to make plans. I like to know where and when things will happen so I can plan accordingly and hopefully control the details. If it were up to me, I would have an outfit layed out the night before Jesus’ coming rather than live each day with this sense of the looming unknown. The concept of God’s plan and His timing seems completely foreign to my detail-oriented mind, yet as I immerse myself in the Amate experience I find more and more that God is calling me to learn how to release control and wait on His timing rather than my own. To wait, but not grow tired of waiting. For me, my time here at Amate thus far has felt like an extended lesson in the virtue of patience, but not my begrudging version of patience, rather, patience with a smile.

I had hoped that Amate would be a magical place where once I arrived I would suddenly know God’s plan for my life. All energy was focused on just getting to Chicago and then, in my version of the plan, God would reveal to me His will for my life. But four months in, I have realized that much less than knowing a plan for my life, I honestly haven’t even figured out God’s plan and purpose for these 11 months at Amate. And that’s perfectly okay. On my first day of work in August, I found out that the tutoring program I had volunteered to coordinate didn’t begin until October. I was so anxious for the kids to arrive, to get the ball rolling, to feel like I had come to Chicago for a reason. It seemed to me like I was wasting time with empty waiting. Why couldn’t the kids just start now? Why could I just know my purpose now? What am I waiting for?

While I felt like it was me waiting all this time for something to happen, in truth it was God waiting on me. Waiting for me to realize that His plan and timing are better than my own. I always thought that surrendering to God’s plan would be giving up and blindly following instead of forging ahead with my own plans and ideas. Instead, God has showed me that by trusting in Him and waiting on His timing I am not blindly following but instead faithfully surrendering the need to lead my own path. I often grow impatient, wondering why God hasn’t answered a prayer, only to find months later that he provided for me in a way far beyond anything I could have planned or asked for myself. And instead of gritting my teeth and waiting in annoyance, God calls me to wait in joyful hope.

Each morning, I try to pray an Our Father, focusing especially on the line “Give us this day, our daily bread”. This daily bread that I am asking for is the hope for each day that God is alive, and God is love. He is not lost in the world and has not forgotten about me. He is working each day on a plan for my life. By actively seeking out this glimmer of hope each day, I am able to wait joyfully as I discover step by step where God is calling me. This has been a tremendous blessing for me in waiting for work to start, waiting for my community to learn to trust, waiting to feel more adjusted in Chicago. These little breadcrumbs of hope, leading me on God’s path, have come in many forms. A handshake of thanks from a parent when picking their child up from my tutoring program. The smile on a student’s face when he FINALLY understood long division. Affirmation from a housemate. An unexpected phone call from a friend. I often find myself surprised by the joy in each of these moments of hope throughout my day, especially on the days when I become bogged down with my own worries and forget to be on the lookout for God in my day. The surprise of hope inspires me to watch more vigilantly for living signs of God in the world. This advent, let us each seek out our daily bread, asking God to teach us how to watch and wait in joyful hope.

“What I say to you, I say to all: “Watch!”

The Sound of a Bird

The following is a poem written by Arielle Zelinski, one of this year's Little Village Volunteers, for her community's Los Posadas Advent Reflections.

Not so long and yet so long ago,

I, a wanderer, perched and slumped in the

chair of the day’s controlled routine

change

                                                welcomes 

and intrudes

only to intrude and welcome again

an inevitable friend and foe, outside my window

            and inside my soul,

change

is a bird singing, hope,

following me with my heavy backpack

filled with fears, regrets, and longings

but hope persists,

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - *

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

while

fear

p

o

u

r

s

the bird rests on a branch

emptying out reminders, remembering my past:

           

driving in a car up to college

            waving good-bye to high school

            and unknowingly stepping back

            into self-doubt, with my first C in English

           

two days before departure to Italy

hands drenched in tears, fear of the unknown—

living across the ocean, with strangers,

for three and a half months

and the possibility of not making friends

calling a friend, and considering

staying back from South Carolina

a week-long service trip to help build houses

to instead work on deserted papers and unread books

a year later, another week long service trip,

to Chicago, another trail of questions

but yet at a school, working with middle schoolers,

and staying with volunteers at Amate, Little Village

all these fears and longings,

invented

but as I stand and reflect,

reflect and stand,

I open my window, allowing the overcast,

the obscurity inside

and with my once fearful eyes

opens them to a bird, chirping,

this bird and this woman grown

            driven with hope

cross into a darkly lit opening

and I, a wanderer,

gently merge

onto another wanderer’s path

but

carrying personal baggage up, up

packed with intrigue and curiosity

as uncertainty dresses their new walls

while one by one they uncover

their reality

unfamiliar voices echo in different places

dusting the past insides of a present dresser

once another’s,

in a world intersected by people and stories and places

            this other wanderer, a new community member,

a traveller from the west, a tall black woman with dreads

experiences so similar and different

   shepherds her community as she beautifully articulates

   truth and experience

   for she bears wisdom,

reliant yet deviant, trustworthy and honest

            she, the Holy Spirit in disguise, the bird

            singing

            with hope, God sent her with great purpose

but this traveller needs to break free

of her cage, for Amate,

her two and a half months,

she must continue onwards, a different direction

sooner than the other eight, she leaves behind,

the other woman uncertain again

and clenches a fist

and releases

only to cry

cry

and cry

but a week later

before closing my window

I open it a crack

to listen to
a faint sound of a bird

*First Stanza from "'Hope' is the Thing with Feathers", by Emily Dickinson.

Taking a Year 'On'

The following is a reflection written by Ellen Newkirk, one of this year's North House Volunteers.

After I got the call that I had been accepted into Amate House, I no longer dreaded the ever-popular question, “What are you doing after college?” One day, when a classmate brought up the topic, I sat up a little straighter in my seat and told her all about my upcoming adventures with Amate, to which she responded, “Yeah, I was thinking about taking a year off, too.”

Now, I don’t know about you, but to me, a “year off” entails either traipsing across Europe from hostel to hostel or playing Nintendo 64 in your parents’ basement. This is quite different from what I have experienced so far with Amate.  In fact, I believe we at Amate House have been taking a “year on” by living in intentional communities in solidarity with those we serve and work beside everyday.

However, no matter how much I love my year “on,” I have begun to realize how important it is to take time “off.” Thankfully, the Amate volunteers and staff had the opportunity to spend a weekend retreat at the rustic Ronora Lodge in Michigan to reconnect and rejuvenate. On an unusually sunny and warm October afternoon, we packed up the cars with everything we would need for the weekend, from rice cookers and s’more fixings to Frisbees and tennis racquets, and drove from the always-busy city to the serenity of the woods.

The weekend’s sessions focused on the five fundamentals of teamwork: trust, conflict, commitment, accountability and results. While it seems like common sense now, I had never thought about the relationship between these components of a community. Each one is dependent on the others, and even if a community excels in one aspect, they cannot be truly successful until all are met. We took time to reflect on which fundamentals we succeed at personally and communally and which ones we need to work on. The staff members tied the concepts to personal experiences they have had in community and shared both healthy and unhealthy ways to live them out.

Each house community had the opportunity to assess our strengths and weaknesses regarding the fundamentals and come up with potential solutions to some of our shortcomings. In such a peaceful environment, we found it easy to have open and conscientious conversations. Issues that were perhaps difficult to bring up with twelve people at a noisy dinner table after an exhausting workday were comfortably shared in the tight-knit circle of attentive community members.

Throughout the weekend we had time to enjoy the beautiful grounds of the lodge, in between rain showers, that is, during both the retreat sessions and free time. We took walks with prayer partners, went paddleboating, played games, took time for personal reflection, had bonfires, and even a few brave souls took a dip in the lake.

We ended the weekend with an affirmation exercise that I think concluded the retreat perfectly. During the retreat, we had the chance to get to know our community members and ourselves more deeply, which helped us write our affirmations straight from the heart. Each community member took time to write an affirmation and prayer for the housemate sitting to his or her right. After some reflection, we read them aloud. I was truly taken aback by the authenticity and genuine love put into each person’s affirmation. Amid teary eyes and hugs, I realized how blessed I am to be a part of a community that is willing and able to eloquently articulate what is so wonderful about one another when we might not even be able to recognize it ourselves. By the time everyone had shared their affirmation and the final clean-up had been made, we all hopped back in our cars with renewed energy to take the year “on.”

Thank You!

Thank you to all of those who attended our recent fall fundraiser, Amate House presents Second City Happily Ever Laughter!  We hope you had a fun night with Amate House and Second City.  Thanks to you, we were able to raise over $10,000 for Amate House!

We are especially grateful to our sponsors for the evening, T.R. & Debbie Maloney, Garry & Barbara Scheuring, and Clune Construction Company. Thank you also to Rob & Lynn Martin, hosts of the VIP reception, and to all of the generous supporters who purchased ads in our program book.

This year, our 32 Volunteers are working in 24 different service sites around Chicago.  Our Volunteers serve as companions to the elderly, teach in schools, provide legal assistance to low-income populations, and work with immigrants and refugees.  Each Volunteer contributes $40,000 in public value to Chicago and will complete 1,700 hours of service during their year in Amate House.

Your support helps make it all possible and we are grateful for you joining us!

Learning How to Fly

The following is a reflection written by Kara Kindel, one of this year's South House Volunteers.

“Like a butterfly stuck in a chrysalis, waiting for the perfect moment, I was waiting for the day I could burst forth and fly away and find my home.” - Emme Rollins

When I was younger, if you walked into my room you would most likely assume that I had an obsession with butterflies. You would first see the giant, colorful, butterfly kite above my bed, and then perhaps the poster of butterflies on the wall. If you looked closer you’d probably see a few painted butterflies hanging here and there, and then realize that those glow-in-the-dark things on my ceiling were not stars, but butterflies. The only problem is that for me, the butterflies were not a happy presence, but rather an infestation. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t enjoy butterflies, but these were all gifts, not something I sought out.  Now, after such over-exposure, I avoid butterflies especially in decorations, and my room is nicely redecorated. Despite my resentment toward the swarm of butterflies I experienced, they seem to fit quite well into my reflections on transitions. Moving to Chicago to do a year with Amate House has been quite the transition. I’m farther from home than I've ever been, and jumping into a house with 11 strangers is something I cannot say I've ever done before. After being here for over a month, this new city, and new community has started to become home. It’s easy on some days to forget the struggles of the transition that I face, but on other days I’m up to my elbows in it.

A few weeks ago we started working at our service sites. I am working at St. Sabina Catholic Charities. We are an emergency assistance department, so we help people who are coming in for clothes, food, and resources. As an intake specialist, I meet with the clients and do assessments to see what we are able to provide for them. This is work I have never done before, so the transition from “I have no idea what I’m doing” to interacting with clients with confidence is a transition I’m still experiencing. Luckily, I have been blessed with very helpful coworkers who are more than happy to walk with me as I learn. I've gotten very good at asking questions so I can operate more comfortably here, and so that I can provide better services to those that I am working with. Soon, I will start coordinating the “Befriend a Family” program that we do here. This matches up our families with families from a sister parish for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter gifts. It seems I am on the brink of starting a whole new level of this job, and right now I can only wait to see what that will challenge me with.

Besides getting used to where I work, I've also had to adjust to living in Chicago. Living in South House has become fairly natural, but at the same time, the transition is not yet finished. This past weekend, a group of my friends from the University of Dayton (Go Flyers!) visited. I was beyond excited to see them, and did not anticipate the internal conflict of having my two worlds collide. There were times I’d be walking around the city with them and wonder why we were in this huge city of Chicago instead of in Dayton. Other times I’d get very homesick, and wish I could just go back to Dayton with them. One of my friends noticed the internal conflict, and reminded me how important it is that I am here to grow, serve and learn. It was then that I realized the significance of that always terrifying “grow” word in the context of my transition to living here. Transition is very much growth. It’s that uncomfortable feeling that is so easy to run from, yet so good to work through. I can’t imagine that it would be entirely comfortable for a caterpillar to be stuck in that cocoon for weeks at a time. At some point they probably want to stretch their legs, and get out of there for a while. But if they endure the discomfort of growth, they transition into (drumroll please) a butterfly!

So, as much as I despise comparing myself to such a despicable and cliché decoration, coming to Amate House is very much the same as building my cocoon. The transition involves some discomfort, but if I remind myself that they are “growing pains”, and not just “pains” then I can look forward to the change, and the day that I can crack open the cocoon and realize that here I am fully at home. The problem with this is that the average life-span of a butterfly is about month. It seems the process of transitioning and growing is never fully complete, and I will be challenged with many cycles of building my cocoon, bursting out as a butterfly, and then soon finding myself as a caterpillar with another uncomfortable growth experience before me. The thought is terrifying at times, but there’s some crazy part of me that seeks that out. It seems to me that there’s no better place to encounter those experiences than at Amate House, and with the blessing of my new community, and a whole lot of prayer, I am confident that while I am here, I will learn how to fly.

Climb On!

The following is a reflection written by Rachael Brugman, one of this year's Little Village House Volunteers.

As I reflect on my first month at Amate, I cannot help to realize how fast this year will fly by. Just yesterday we were meeting each other for the first time, unpacking our belongings and attending orientation. Now I can feel myself adjusting to life in the city, settling in at my work site, and getting to know my roommates on a deeper level. When looking back on our orientation weeks, one specific day really stood out to my roommates and me. As much as we enjoyed the discussions about chores and petty cash; visiting Irons Oaks and engaging in some physical fun was the highlight of the beginning weeks of our year together.

Irons Oaks is an outdoor facility that provides team building exercises for many ages on their 37-acre nature preserve. For our visit we were presented with various physical challenges that promoted team work, good communication, positive feedback, emotional support, as well as self-reflection on our own strengths and weaknesses. Early on in the day I found my housemates and I to have a bit of a competitive streak in each of us; asking our leader to time us on our activities and if we beat the last “record”. Even with this competitiveness, we never forgot to work together, constantly collaborating on the best strategies to accomplish the challenges put in front of our team. Throughout the day we completed six different activities; each one showing us to work together, strategize, and have fun while supporting each other.

One particular activity stuck out to me after the day had ended. It included each person walking across a low tightrope while the remaining housemates acted as spotters walking alongside ready to catch the person if he or she would happen to fall (I am happy to say that no one did!). Before we began the tightrope walk each person would ask the spotters if they were ready. The spotters would respond back with a positive and encouraging “Climb on!” followed by the person climbing onto the tightrope and walking across. It felt a bit cheesy at the time but it was great to know that my housemates were there to catch me if I were to fall. I think it is important to remember this as we find ourselves struggling with our own issues and problems in our communities or at our work sites. We only have to look around us to find support and encouragement; knowing that if we shall ever fall, our housemates will be there to catch us. It is an indescribable feeling knowing how much support I have around me!

I have heard many times during orientation that the struggles and challenges we will face as a community will present us with opportunities to become closer and form relationships. I believe accomplishing the challenges we were presented with at Irons Oaks provided everyone opportunities to grow closer together as we stepped outside our comfort zones and pushed our limits both physically and mentally. At the end of the day we had a lot of fun laughing, strategizing, and working together, while also realizing we will be able to apply what we learned at Irons Oaks to our lives in our communities and at our work sites.

Starting a New Year

The following is a reflection written by Amy Streit, one of this year's North House Volunteers.

“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission, I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next.”
                                   - Cardinal John Henry Newman

Wow! As I write this, I realize that we all moved into our new homes three weeks ago. It has been a whirlwind of orientation activities, meeting new housemates and volunteers, coworkers, and alumni while adjusting to the new life of service that we will be experiencing for the next year. This is actually round two of service for me, but the beginning of the year still had that magical feeling, knowing that there are so many possibilities and wonderful experiences presented before me.

To start our year, we participated in about two weeks of Orientation. This was a time to really get to know those around us, to reflect, and to answer some pretty tough questions about why we are here, and what we want to experience this year. Sometimes it is easy to come up with surface level answers to these questions, but we were really challenged to find the answers that were placed deeply in our heart. All of these experiences have given us plenty of opportunities to bond and form relationships with our housemates and fellow volunteers, and I am beginning to realize how truly blessed I am to be a part of this wonderful Amate House community.

There were so many wonderful aspects of Orientation that I would like to write about, but I know that this isn’t really possible, so I am going to highlight one. Each morning as we gathered for Orientation, a different volunteer or staff member started by leading us in prayer. There were different times where we had the chance to pray or gather together during and at the end of the day, but the morning prayers seemed to be the most meaningful for me. I had signed up for prayer before starting Orientation, and was very excited to start with one of my favorite prayers by Archbishop Romero. But of course knowing me, I decided to bring another prayer “just in case” then changed my mind at the last minute and read a scripture passage followed by a prayer by Cardinal John Henry Newman. I am happy I did, because I feel like this prayer will hopefully represent what our experiences will be in doing another year of service.

I know that coming into this year I had expectations, which I am still trying to get rid of so that I can get the most out of this wonderful opportunity to serve through such a fantastic program with equally fantastic volunteers. And even though I try not to have expectations, I realize it is still important to have dreams, hopes, and goals. And my biggest hope is that this year each of us volunteers recognizes what that definite service is that God has created us to do Him, and that even though we may not currently know our mission in life, we may still work to better the world for those around us.

A Life Lived For Others Is A Life Worthwhile

The following is a reflection written by Andrew Kuttler, one of this year's North House Volunteers.

Widening the lens with which we look at the world seems to be the theme of an Amate House Volunteer. Most of our Community Nights tend to try and strengthen our faith or experience within our houses because our experiences do plenty to open our eyes. That was my feeling until recently when Alex Kotlowitz joined us for a discussion.

This was something I was looking forward to throughout most of the year. I had heard that the Volunteers did it last year and so to prepare for such an occasion, I naturally read every book by Alex that I could find. To be honest, I really had no idea about the books prior to reading except them being strongly recommended by friends. Those books…definitely something I should have indulged much earlier in life. I read There Are No Children Here and Never a City So Real. Though reading these after deciding to come to Chicago seems almost like a waste of time to those unfamiliar with them because they highlight most of the things we have learned this year volunteering; they still managed to open my eyes to many different things.

Take Never a City So Real for example. This book highlights about 7 or so neighborhoods throughout Chicago through one person’s experiences. These unique stories are a only a tiny glimpse into the vast diversity in Chicago.

Prior to this year, when I would think of diversity, I would immediately associate it to race because that is what our culture deems to be the only definition. So society looks at Chicago, especially Rogers Park, and says that is a diverse area. But what truly makes this city diverse isn't necessarily the number of different races in the city; rather, it’s the varying stories that all come together to make this great city. It’s hard to imagine 12 people to live in the same house with many core values the same and we think of Chicago and don’t comprehend how many completely unique stories are joined together by their living parameters.

Let’s face it, many of us are naive to the world and its issues. I only know the tip of the iceberg when it comes to problems our within our society and even that overwhelms me. So far, I have been unable to wrap my mind around how to fix issues that plague us. When I work towards the heart of the issue, I find another couple issues that need resolved before more can be fixed. And that is the problem that as we work towards one solution, we find other issues that need addressed.

And that is what I am contemplating to do with my life? Work in an almost paradoxical system that says that we can achieve perfection in society based upon an imperfect set up. It is a tall task then to take on changing one aspect of society without getting caught up in trying to fix everything else. I could legitimately spend my whole career working to fix one issue and never succeed because other things needed to be taken care of.
To many people, our societal problems are insurmountable. But if there’s one thing I have learned from people like Alex Kotlowitz, my boss, and my housemates it is that as a collective we can make a change by each working on our own tasks and collaborating.

Daunting work lies ahead of me and you know what? Bring it!

The Roots of Action and Advocacy

The following is a reflection written by Elizabeth McFadden, one of this year's North House Volunteers.

Last month my service site, Lakeview Pantry, sent me to the National Anti-Hunger Policy Conference in Washington, D.C. Although I was sorry to leave my delightful 11 community members for a few days, it was rather exciting to go to workshops, hear about innovative anti-hunger programs, and be inspired to work harder. The whole conference was in preparation for the last day, which was spent lobbying on Capitol Hill. We met with State Representatives and their Staff to encourage them to support policies that, among other things, ensure food stamps and provide commodities for food pantries. It was also an opportunity to advocate for my clients and to share their stories with those who, although genuinely support anti-hunger policies, are removed from frequent encounters with the faces of hunger. 

Upon returning to Chicago, I realized that while lobbying in this manner is vital and an intrinsic part of American government, maybe this isn't the only kind of advocacy. It left me wondering about advocating within one’s own community, whether it is my Amate community, the larger community, or my place of work. It made me question whether I actually advocate for my clients in my everyday life. I realized that if I am not advocating for my clients every day and bringing awareness to the injustices they face, then how I can honestly advocate for my clients on a state and federal level?

At Amate House, we are dedicated to putting love into action. As volunteers living in an intentional community, we constantly strive to act intentionally, so that those actions reflect our beliefs. We want to, as St. Francis said, “Preach the Gospel at all times, when necessary use words.” I think, however, that I sometimes forget that it is necessary to use words, as they can be insufficient and limited. Since our actions are preceded by thought, isn't there a time, sometimes, to share those thoughts, to voice those thoughts, and to dissect those thoughts? Because isn't that where real social change occurs? Within our own hearts and our own communities? Dorothy Day reminds us that, “The greatest challenge of the day is how to bring about a revolution of the heart. A revolution, which must start with each one of us.” I loved and appreciated the opportunity to lobby for my clients and still see lobbying as valuable. It is in community, however, that we plant the seeds of societal change with both our hearts and mouths.  I am so grateful for this year and the chance to live in a community that values discussion and challenges each other to continually turn our hearts toward the reality of Love. After all, there’s not much more that one could want than that.

** While in Washington, Elizabeth did not represent Amate House, Catholic Volunteer Network, or AmeriCorps in any official capacity.  Her actions and advocacy do not necessarily represent the views or actions of Amate House, Catholic Volunteer Network or AmeriCorps.  

Community and Consequences

The following is a reflection written by Nicki Ripple, one of this year's Little Village House Volunteers.


Consequence (n): a result or effect of an action or condition.

When I was 8 years old, I pulled down my pants. I thought that exposing my bottom to my mom would be a perfectly good way to pass a winter day indoors. She told me never to do that again. I made the executive decision to do it again. Mid-moon, she scooped me up and rubbed my bare behind all over the window for the entire neighborhood to see. Sadly, it took becoming a human squeegee for me to learn what a consequence was. Lesson learned.

Skip ahead a few years and I'm still learning about consequences. When I was 22 years old, I applied to Amate House. I thought that committing a year of my life to service and intentional community would be a perfectly good way to spend a year. Naturally, when they accepted me I made the decision to go for it. As I tend to make a lot of decisions without thinking, many of my actions result in unexpected consequences. However, I've come to find that one of my favorite things about living in community is that my housemates are always there to teach me new lessons and are more than willing to help me remember the important ones. For example, entering before knocking is almost never okay in any given situation. There is an appropriate way to clean a wok, and it is not with soap. There is a right way to cook an egg, and it takes exactly 17 minutes. Usually I would just swallow it raw, but once again: consequences.

More importantly, as a result of my decision to live in intentional community this year, I have learned a great deal about stewardship, faith, community, social justice, and service which are coincidentally the 5 tenets of Amate House. Had it not been for my housemates, I might still not know that being a good steward means using only one square of toilet paper and $16 can either buy you exactly 1 cheeseburger, 1 can of pop, and fries + tip at a restaurant or food for an entire week. Faith means believing in one another, trusting that everyone will be home in time for community night and will rescue you from the neighborhood bakery at 2:00 AM when your car battery dies. Dedication to service means getting up early on Saturday mornings to help at your roommate's service site even though you already have enough hours logged this month. Community means loving each person for who they are, being there for constant support, and mindfully arranging every single piece of Tupperware according to shape and lid size so that morning lunch-packing will go as smoothly as possible.

I'd be lying if I said I haven't learned a thing or two from this experience. Almost every decision I make affects not only me but those I serve and more often than not, those I live with. All of these lessons, small and large, have been a result of my community's willingness to share their lives with me, their opinions and their struggles. They have let me see both the good and the bad, and let me show all sides of myself. After committing a year to community and service, I've decided to redefine “consequence.” It took living with 8 people to learn that not all consequences are negative outcomes as I had once believed when I was 8 years old.

I'd like to conclude with a quote from my favorite comedian Amanda Bynes who said, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Reflecting on my year with Amate House, I can’t help but agree with her that it is important to cherish the present moment to the fullest and find a way to take what you've learned with you for the rest of your life. I have learned lessons that I will take with me along the way and I know that my time with Amate House, my community, and my service site will affect the decisions I will have to make down the road. If all that I've learned thus far are the consequences of my decision to be here, I’ll take them.