When in Roma...

I am not a traveler extraordinaire. I am easily confused by road signs, airports, and train stations. Truth be told, when journeying to new places, I often spend more of my time wandering in circles than actually getting to my destination. (My mother says I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag.) Aside from a screwy internal compass that refuses to point north, I also have "TOURIST" visibly stamped on my forehead with a sticky note saying: "Attention: Pick-pockets, easy target right here" just underneath it. I have the worst travel luck known to man, as the travel gods constantly frown and scorn my attempts to enjoy a new place. I am always the victim of delayed trains, bus breakdowns, transportation strikes, and freak flooding.

Despite all of this, I love to travel. Thankfully, I do have some redeeming travel qualities: I am an absolute dare-devil when it comes to trying new food, I have no problem making a fool out of myself as I stumble through a new language, I will ask anyone for directions, and I can walk for miles. I say all of this only so that you will have context for the stories that are to come.

This is how my first backpacking trip through Europe began:

My Polish-missionary-teacher-friend Colleen came to Tisovec on Tuesday, December 22nd. I heated up some Zabyacka Capusnica for dinner, we shared some Slivovica, and then (after dancing to the latest USA radio hits on youtube), we went to bed. When we woke up early the next morning, the twenty-four inches of snow that had so delighted me throughout the entire week before had begun to melt. (Please note: Until December 22, 2009, it never occurred to me that snow melted – let alone the fact that snow melts into a miserable mess. If Facebook had a "Snow" Page that you could "become a fan of," I would be the first person removing my name from the fan list. I officially dislike snow.) Wearing our packs, Colleen and I waded through the slushy lake that used to be Tisovec's main street in order to catch the 8:05am bus to Bratislava. We arrived at the bus stop at 8am (FIVE MINUTES EARLY), and an hour later our bus still had not arrived. Andrej, however, did arrive. This drunk and toothless-smile wielding man sporting raw facial wounds resembling raw meat and an ever-darkening, swollen right eye adopted Colleen and I as friends. After uncomfortably stumbling through a conversation, Andrej began gesticulating wildly to us explaining in broken Slovak that our bus was probably not coming and that we should wait for the 9:11 bus to Banska Bystrica. (Colleen and I had already figured this out, and the 9:11 bus was now our “Plan B.”) Somehow, in Andrej’s drunk pantomime, his hand landed on my chest… and stayed there. Let’s just say our trip was off to a stellar beginning.

When our bus finally arrived, we hopped on and prayed that we could find a good connection to Bratislava. After one bus ride, two tram rides later and a lot of worrying, we made it to the airport with twenty minutes to spare. Colleen and I had booked tickets with Wizz Air, a no-frills, cheap airline that earns money by charging people for baggage weight and that saves money by not providing passengers with seat assignments. Thankfully, Colleen and I were able to find seats next to each other. We spent the duration of the plane ride practicing out Italian saying things like: “grazie,” “prego,” and “spaghetti.”

The first thing I noticed on the train ride into the city from the airport was how warm Rome was. We had come from temperatures that hovered just above freezing, and after five minutes in Rome we quickly began shedding layers. The second thing we noticed as we looked out the train window was that Rome had palm trees. Go figure. When we saw people speeding down the highway on their little motorcycles and mo-peds, Colleen and I knew we were in Rome.

We woke up early the next day because Colleen’s dad had gifted us with backstage passes to the Vatican for Christmas. We left with plenty of time to make our 10:30 tour. When we got off the metro, we followed the crowds towards the Vatican. Everywhere we looked, men were selling knock-off purses and watches. People representing restaurants and tour companies were thrusting fliers at us. One man watched us walk by and said jerking his thumb in the opposite direction, “Hey ladies. The Vatican museum is that way.” Colleen and I, who were indeed trying to get to the Vatican Museum, ignored him and kept walking. Within a few minutes, we approached the giant columns that guard St. Peter’s Square. We were immediately knocked off our feet by the Vatican’s one-two punch of power and tradition.







We saw St. Peter and his keys. I wished that I had brought my Bible with us so that we could sit on the steps and read from Romans.



Because St. Peter’s Square was not the Vatican Museum – and because we needed to meet our tour guide at the Vatican Museum, we turned around and walked back through the columns and into the crowds looking for signs to direct us. As we walked along, the man from earlier recognized us and said sassily, “See! I told you the Vatican Museums were that way.” Colleen thought this was hilarious. I was less than amused.

Our tour of the Vatican was stunning in the truest sense of the word – I was unable to process everything I was seeing. Even the walls wreaked history. I couldn’t believe how much money and time was spent through the centuries on the creation and maintenance of this place. While visiting the Vatican, I learned that you should look up, down and all around. The ceilings, of course, were covered in gold. The floors were original tiled mosaics. Here is just a small part of what we saw while we walked the Vatican grounds: This is one of the many ceilings:



This is one of the many tiled mosaic floors:



Here's St. Peter in the Pine Cone Garden:



Our tour ended at the Sistine Chapel. I think we held our breath the whole time we were there. As we were herded into the room, I asked Colleen, “Where are the hands?” We found them quickly, and we stood there for quite a while taking in the beauty and the wonder of the love Michelangelo had captured. The Vatican guards barked, “Silence! Silence, please. No photo! Holy place,” and we took our time slowly walking around the room and through the crowds all the while staring upwards and open-mouthed. We could not take pictures of the ceiling, but here are some that I found online:






After the Vatican tour, Colleen and I stopped at an outdoor café (yes, an outdoor café in the middle of December!) to have lunch. Then, we walked the streets of Rome and people watched. I immediately liked Rome. This city is outrageous and demands your full attention. The people here are beautiful. The Italian women are well-dressed, usually wearing heeled boots and dark eye make-up. The Italian men were even more striking than their female counterparts. Our walk inevitably led us to a gelato shop.



Later, we celebrated our Christmas Eve dinner at McDonalds (a little taste of home) while we sat at the outdoor tables and gazed at the Parthenon.





We attended Caravitas Catholic Church 7pm Christmas Eve mass – in English. Colleen cried her way through singing “O Come, o come Emanuel” and “Joy to the World.” After worship, we were invited to the congregation’s coffee hour – and we were surprised to find that champagne, not coffee, was being offered. This is the organ at Caravitas. We were excited to learn that Mozart played on this organ as a young musician.



We came home to the hostel that night exhausted – only to find that our hostel had decided that everyone needed to celebrate Christmas Eve together. The people we were staying with talked us into going back out to St. Peter’s Square for the pope’s Christmas Eve mass. Because the metro was not running so late on a holiday, we walked across Rome to get to the Vatican. As we approached the square, we were greeted with strains of “Adeste Fidelis.” We joined the crowds of people camped outside the cathedral and watched mass take place on the jumbo screens on either side of the square. This is Pope on the big screen.



This is the life-size nativity scene set up in St. Peter's Square.



We were not there long before the skies opened and rain began pouring. As best we can tell, it was while we were running to the columns for shelter from the rain that Pope Benedict got tackled.

Colleen and I walked home with one of our new friends, Patrick who had been studying in Rome for the fall semester. We assumed (and you know what they say about assuming things…) that Patrick knew where he was going as he led us home. (Patrick also said he had a map when we left the hostel.) Two hours and an “oops, I guess I left the map at home” later the three of us resembled drowned rats, and we still had not located our hostel. Colleen and I learned a lesson the hard way that night – never, ever leave home without your own map. Ever. Still, I guess we can check getting lost in Rome in the middle of the night and the pouring rain on Christmas Eve off our things to experience in life.

This is Colleen and Patrick looking at a city map at about 1:30am.



A little worse for the wear, Colleen and I dragged ourselves out of bed early the next morning. It wasn’t until after we had showered and had breakfast that we remembered it was Christmas, we were in Rome, and we should be joyful.

At 8:30, we arrived at St. Peter’s Square for Pope Benedict’s Noon Address. Because we arrived so early, we were able to score sweet seats in the SEVENTH row. Even if we had been cardinals, we could not have been any closer to the pope unless we were the barber hired to trim his nose hair! These are pictures of St. Peter's Square pre-noon address.









One of the highlights of our morning was sitting next to a group of Catholic school girls visiting Rome on a field trip from Rhode Island. These girls, dressed in plaid pleated skirts, knee highs and ribboned braids, could not have been more excited about their upcoming meeting with the pope. In fact, they performed their own home-made and choreographed cheers in anticipation of the pope's arrival. These girls were chanting: "OH! We love the Pope!" "Bene-bene-ditto, si si si!" and "We love, we love Benedict. What? The Sixteenth."

In preparation for the Pope's address, the Vatican guards, army and marching band paraded through the crowd.

A typical Vatican guard dressed in the special occasion uniform:

Either Benedict did not see his shadow – or the rules that apply to groundhogs don’t apply to popes when they finally emerge from their chambers. When Benedict appeared at the window, the crowds (Colleen and I included) went wild. Benedict came out and stayed out! He delivered a short homily in Italian and then to my surprise and delight, he blessed and wished people a Merry Christmas in over sixty different languages. Benedict announced the name of the language before he began his blessing saying, “Italian,” sharing a blessing and then wishing all who spoke Italian “Buon Natale!” Whenever the pope announced the language, everyone in the square who spoke that particular language cheered and waved flags. Colleen and I were stoked to cheer three times – once for English, once for Polish and once for Slovak.







After leaving the Vatican, we walked to the Spanish steps.







This is the view we saw as we walked up the steps:





This is Rome from the top of the Spanish Steps:





Later, we saw the Colosseum and the Roman Forum at night, and with that, we officially said goodbye to Rome.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year and Epiphany Greetings,

I am happy to say that I am writing to you from the comfort of my Tisovec apartment. I am FINALLY (and thankfully) home at last. The last seventeen days have been a wild adventure that I can't wait to share with you. Over the next week or so, I will be adding blog entries detailing my stomp through Europe. So, friends, stay tuned for more coming soon.

Peace and love from Slovakia.

Christmas Soup... A Little Bit of Everything

Yesterday was the last day of school for three weeks. I told my students, "Now, Ziaci, I know that you are sad. I know that you are going to miss doing homework, taking quizzes, writing papers and sitting in class. Don't worry. You'll be back in just three weeks, and we'll have plenty of work for you to do!" My students, well used to my obnoxious sense of humor, grinned, rolled their eyes and told me they wouldn't cry too much.

On Thursday, a second year student and my first year class surprised me with Christmas gifts. Mick, one my brightest (and sassiest) students walked up to me with a list of sentences. Thinking that he had written wall-paper for me (I will not be late to class, I will not be late to class...), I frowned at him and asked, 'Mick, what's this? You haven't been late to class." "Oh, this?" he asked, "This is your Christmas present." I looked down at the paper he handed me. Written about fifty times was the sentence:
"Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year Miss Large"
See, I told you he was sassy! I laughed and told him he had lost his mind and that I loved the gift.

Two hours later, I walked into my first year class with their Module 11 tests in hand. When the bell rang, I gave them the universal test taking command that all students know no matter what their language, "Put everything away and take out a pencil." The students just sat there smiling at me. "Ziaci," I announced, "Can you hear me?" "Yes," Babetta told me. "But we have present for you. Present first, then test." I gave the class a weird look not sure if they really had a present or if they wanted to get out of taking their test. "No," I shook my head. "Test first. Then we'll do the present." "Okay," Barby said taking out a beautifully wrapped present and setting it on my desk. I looked at the wrapped paper and smiled at my students, "Never mind. Present first!" The students laughed, and as I unwrapped the gift, I pulled out a bright yellow shirt with the country of Slovakia on the front, and all of my students' nicknames scrawled in their own handwriting on the back. I looked around the room, and the class was beaming. "D'akujem! Thank you! This is wonderful!" I walked around the room and hugged each student. "I love it!" I put the shirt on then and there over my sweater. Then, the students took their test.

I think God smiled favorably on Christmas Boot Camp because on Wednesday afternoon it started snowing! Right now, it's 6:45am on Sunday morning, and there are still little flurries falling from the sky. (It's also a whopping 7 degrees farenheit outside... but hey, my southern blood is starting to thicken.)

This Christmas, my friend Colleen and I will be spending serious time with the pope in Rome. We fly to the Holy See on December 23rd, and we are looking forward to attending midnight mass at St. Peter's Basilica and listening to the pope's Christmas address at noon on Christmas day in St. Peter's Square. From there Colleen and I will head to Florence and Venice so that we might drink good Italian wine, find David, ride a gondola and get lost in the streets of Italy. We have been practicing our Italian, memorizing phrases such as:

"Bonjorna Pappa Benedetto. Piacere."
(Hello Pope Benedict. It's nice to meet you.)

"Naturalmente io sono cattolica. Ave Maria, piena di grazia..."
(Of course I'm Catholic. Hail Mary, full of grace...)

"Passa mi piu gelato!"
(Pass me more gelato!)

"Vacca sacra! Credo di aver mangiato troppo."
(Holy cow! I think I ate too much.)

From Italy, Colleen and I will travel back to Bratislava for New Years.
On January 1st, Colleen will go home to Poland, and I will set out for adventure #2. My good friend Hope, who I have grown up with, is flying from Charlotte to meet me in Frankfurt. We are going to spend a week together walking through Luther's old haunts, eating Belgium waffles in Belgium, and smiling at each other under the Eiffel Tower. Life over the next few weeks will be frenzied and fabulous. I am looking forward to every minute of it.

Finally, the most important part of this Christmas soup: to everyone back home, I wish you holiday blessings. May the Christ-child bring peace and joy to you and yours.

Buon Natale!

It's A Wonderful Life!

I love Christmas - I love everything about Christmas. I love Advent worship. I enjoy Christmas cookies and the smell of cinnamon and pumpkin in my house. I love that when I turn on the radio, everyone in the car knows the words to the songs. I delight in Christmas trees, McAdenville, ice skating, John 1, Luke 2, caroling, and hot chocolate. I will even admit that I love the commerciality of Christmas. I get bit by the Christmas bug every year - usually, I am infected a little earlier then the rest of the world. Well, maybe not the whole world --- Wal-Mart and I probably get bitten about the same time.

As of last week, however, I had still been waiting for Christmas to sink it's teeth into me. Looking around, I realized that the rest of the Americans were feeling the same way. So, I decided institute "Christmas Bootcamp: Get With the Program" Week. Our workout: Every night for one week, the American teachers would get together for holiday fun and a reading of Luke 2. I was going to help us find the Christmas spirit if it killed us.

Christmas bootcamp officially began on Sunday, so Heidi and I began preparing on Saturday. Because Christmas trees (and wreaths and ornaments and other assorted decorations) are in short supply in Tisovec, we spent the day making our own. I made a trip to a knick knack store and bought a stack of construction paper (20 pages is all the store had). On the way out of the store, I ran into Mark (one of the American teachers). Excitedly, I thrust the paper at him asking, "Mark, do you know what this is?!" He looked at the paper and back up at me and said, "It's paper." "No, I told him... you've got to have some vision." He narrowed his eyes, "A christmas tree?" he answered. OF COURSE!

Here is our Christmas tree (some assembly required).









On Heidi's run, she found good greenery and some pretty berries. We made an Advent wreath using four candles and wine corks.



Heidi also made a nativity scene out of toilet paper rolls and construction paper. Don't tell Mom (because she would be appalled) but, in keeping with the toilet theme, Jesus is made out of toilet paper.





On Sunday morning, Heidi and went to the store and bought everything we would need to make gingerbread cookies. We also got the ingredients for hot chocolate and good Slovak spiced wine. To carefully guard our holiday surprise, we put placed a sign on the door of our apartment:

(Pozor = "Careful!" or "Danger!" and D'akujeme = "We thank you.")


Before everyone arrived we changed our sign to read:
"Welcome to Christmas Town, USA" (except we crossed out USA)and wrote "Slovakia"

When we invited everyone to come for Christmas, we asked each teacher to bring three homemade ornaments to use for decorating our tree. I LOVE that each person spent time putting his or her own "touch" on the ornaments.

Here is our table of ornaments.



Here we are trimming the tree.









We made Christmas cookies!







Then, we decided to take "family pictures" in front of the tree.






We watched Merry Christmas Charlie Brown and read the Christmas story together.

And because no Christmas could be complete without mistletoe, I hung some from our ceiling. He is Eric... waiting... under the mistletoe.



Here is Becky... (although this is probably not what Eric had in mind)



It's safe to say that it's Christmastime in T-town.

Zabyacka

I had another Slovak adventure last weekend, and I think this story is best told (or at least begun) by sharing a series of emails between Eliot (my godbrother's father) and me.

At 8:30 last Saturday morning, I checked my email and noticed that Eliot had sent me a message.

It said:


Just checking to make sure I have a good email address for you.

The LRC one seemed to stop working. Hope you are well. That article in
the Disturber was something else. Our 15 min. of fame, I guess.

Keep in touch.

Eliot


I decided to take his request that I keep in touch seriously, so I shared with him what I had been up to that morning. Poor Eliot. I think he knows how much I love him. I also think he will never ask me to "keep in touch" again.

Hey Eliot : )

This is the email you want to use. LRC underwent a domain change when they switched from a college to university.

I hope you guys are having fun getting ready for Christmas. I will miss seeing Lisa's themed tree and xmas decorations this year! In Slovakia, the big cultural celebration that prepares everyone for Christmas is called Zabyachka, and it's happening today. A couple of families will buy a pig (150 kilo or larger) and kill it, burn the hair off, skin it, and then cut it into bits. I got up at 5:30 this morning to head out to the farm with a family, and watch them corral the pig and then slit its throat. It was an experience, let me tell you. Then, they hauled this pig into the back of the van and took it home. I left around 7;30 this morning when they were skinning it in the backyard. I figure I'll let them gut the pig, and then I'll head back out there. Apparently pig liver is a delicacy around here. Sweet Lord.

Tell everyone I say hello and send my love. It is always good to hear from you!

Peace,
Meg


I think Eliot's response speaks for itself:


Eliot's response:

geez. Thanks for that extremely descriptive update. Nothing like getting up at the crack of dawn for the traditional "slitting of the pig's throat".

Sweet Lord is right.

Glad to heat you are doing well.

Eliot

(could have done without the" pig liver" mention though)


Families have Zabyacka (pig killing) just before Christmas every year. This year, I was lucky (?) enough to be a part of it. Helena, our headmistress, and her family purchased a pig and invited us to be part of the sausage-making process from beginning to end. Because Eric, Becky and I went to the disco in Banska Bystrica the night before (and didn't get in until 3am), I didn't stay for the entire Zabyacka. My friends Heidi, Mark and Whitney made it the whole day! Here are some of my pictures from the actual pig-killing. (Disclaimer: They are a little gruesome.)







The three men who drove us to the farm corraled the pig and ended it's life. We were invited to watch as the pig's blood slowly mixed with the blood on the ground. It was sad to see, but still an experience that I am glad to have had.

The men loaded the pig onto a stretcher, and I was shocked to watch them unceremoniously dump the pig carcass into the back of the school van.





Once the men had paid (170 euros for a 150 kilogram pig), we headed home - with the smell of Mr. Pig wafting through the van.

We went straight to Helena's house where her husband who had gotten up as early as we had in order to prepare a fire outside so that we might begin the sausage-making process.

The men carried the pig from the van to the fire.



Then, they began washing the pig with hot water.





I left just before they took the blow torch out to remove the hair from the pig.

I asked my friends for pictures of the rest of Zabyacka. Here is the documentation of their day:











At 6pm, we were invited to Helena's house for Zabyacka Capusnica, a special pork and cabbage soup. Over dinner, we enjoyed the fruits of everyone's labor. Sausage, anyone?

Stužkova - Times Two

Every year, the fifth year classes (the 30 "A" Class students, the 30 "B" class students, and the "Octava" class students)each have their own stužkova. What is a stužkova, you ask? Stužkova is what my friend Eric has called "one part prom, three parts bar mitzvoh." Stužkova is a dance, a dinner, a ceremony and an important rite of passage in the lives of our students. Each fifth year class is responsible for planning the details and program of this event. Parents, teachings, friends and siblings are invited to put on their finest clothes and celebrate these students' journeys to adulthood. The word stužkova refers to the green ribbons that each student receives from his or her class teacher. These ribbons are meant to symbolize the hope that these well-educated and morally responsible students represent to their communities.

This past month, I was priveleged to attend two stužkovas. The basic outline for both evening is as follows: People begin arriving at 6pm. Teachers and parents are escorted to tables by their students. Stužkova begins when the 5th year class processes in, and one student offers a welcoming speech. Then, the headmistress is escorted to center stage and she gives a speech and reflection on the hope that these students offer. A toast is given - (alcohol was abundant in supply all evening long). Once the toast is finished, the students invite their parents to the dance floor for a formal waltz. When this song is over, each fifth year asks a different teacher to waltz with them. After this, dinner begins. The tables looked fabulous. Here are some pictures from dinner:









After dinner, the fifth year students put on a program. For about an hour a half, they entertained us with skits, songs, and dances. The 5A's theme was a satire of the difference between their parents' lives in school under communism and their own experience today. The 5B's did a series of non-related skits including a game-show, lip-synching, and an exercise routine. At eleven, there is another ceremony. The students each receive a small cake from their class teacher. As the students come forward to receive their cake and to light a candle, their peers share a description of the students' character and talent. When this ceremony is completed, we have second supper. As everyone is eating - again - there is another program. The 5A class invited their class teacher forward and held her ransom as they present a list of demands to her including an agreement not to give any more tests and a tattoo of the 5A students on her body. The 5B class surprised us all, donning typical Slovak dress and presenting a Slovak folklore dance recital. Check out their second program:











Once the second prgoram is over, the DISCO (pronounced: "Deesco") starts! Parents, students, teachers - everyone dances "disco disco" style. We had a fabulous time! I stayed until 2:30am for the 5B Stuzkova (we had to wake up at 5am to catch at 6am bus to Bratislava for Thanksgiving), and I stayed until 4:30am for the 5A stuzkova. Believe it or not - I was an early-departer at BOTH dances. I think all the American teachers have been walking zombies for the last two or three weeks - but we have enjoyed eating, dancing, and being a part of such an important event in the life of our students.

Miracles, Parables and Success

This week my third year Life and Teachings of Jesus students turned in their third set of journals. Recently, we have been studying the Words and Deeds of Jesus.

We began this unit by exploring different miracles and healing stories in the Gospels. For a warm-up, I asked the students to brainstorm a definition of a miracle. The students through out phrases like "an unusual event," "something that defies nature's laws," "something that cannot be explained." I wrote their comments on the board, and then I said to them, "Alright ziaci, I like your definitions, but I have one question for you to consider: Keeping these defintions in mind, would you consider a woman giving birth to a baby a miracle?" In both of my third year classes, our discussion was lively. I have some students who completely altered their definition of miracle. Others kept their original definition of miracle. One student commented, "People have babies every day. Even cats have babies."

For their journal that week, I asked them to reflect on the following questions:
What is a miracle? Can a miracle prove the existence of God? Give an example of a miracle. Here are their responses:

"In my opinion, a miracle can prove the existence of God. And why? Because the miracle is something unpredictable, and something a human is unable to do themselves."

"Maybe I look like a Gentile now, but I don't believe in miracles. I think every miracle can be explained by modern science. I think someone who believes in God does not need any miracles to assure that God exists."

"A miracle is something breath-taking."

"There are places in the world where people are dying because of hunger and thirst, and God could help, but no... If God helped these people, it would be a miracle."

"Life is a miracle."

"Miracle, we often use this word for something that happened and we really didn't expect it."

"The problem is that the modern people are hard to persuade. We want at least a mountin moving across the sea. We forget all about every day miracles like surise, singing birds, blowing wind, and meeting new frends."

"As an example (of a miracle), I can say this: We are going to take Ms. Large's test. None of us is prepared and all of us think it will be a horrible grade. But suddenly something happens during the test and whole class knows the right answers and gets 100 percent. That's what I call a miracle."

"What is a miracle for me? I lived many miracles, for example, when my youngest brother born, he born before 2 years, so I was fifteen, and I don't believe that I will have more brothers than one. Miracle is that I am at EGT because when I wasn't here, I can't meet my friends. The miracle is that I have a family who I love, I have friends who I can believe. In my future, miracles will happen. There are a lot of miracles, but we must see it. Or better is, we must want to see it."

In the following week, the students worked in pairs (or as I like to call it - "with someone who loves them") to dissect and study one of Jesus' parables. Each pair was responsible for teaching the class everything they need to know about this particular parable - the social, historical, Biblical, and theological contexts. Taking all of this into account, they were asked to summarize the message of the parable in their own words. I was very impressed with the research the students did, and the way in which they applied these contexts to the greater message Jesus was sharing with us. For this week, this was the students' journal prompt and their responses:

What is a parable? What is your favorite parable and why? Why do you think Jesus chose to teach in parables, and do you consider parables an effective teaching method?

"Parable is a kind of story that Jesus used to explain the hard things connected with God and with his plan on the earth by using a much more simple story."

"Parables are very nice and interesting. We can study them for months or years and we still cannot get enough."

"Parables are told in such a way that we have to think about it and find out what does the particular parable mean. Jesus wanted people to think about the meaning of the stories."

"Jesus tells it (a message) in a really interesting way, which people acknowledge and they accepted more than something what is really boring."

"Jesus used parables, thus making people think."

"There are a lot of hidden meanings in it (a parable). Some people can find a lot of things on the surface, but some people go to the deepness of the story and find something special that the surface pepole wouldn't see if they would read it one hundred times."

"Parables are easier to remember. In every story is some idea which is very important but we could forget it. But if it is soemthing different or more interesting you will remember it for a longer time than something that is awful and boring."

"I think it's a very good teaching method. Because sometimes it's hard to explain some important things as they are. And if you use a parable, you can easily show all the bad things, all the relationships. And because it's easier to look at someone else then to look at myself and say "Yes, I was wrong."

"Parables are a really effective teaching method. Jesus was very clever that he was using them. This is much better than telling people what they should do, how they should behave outright - it is better when they understand by listening and thinking about the parables that tell us so much."

"I think Jesus had a reason why to teach the parables so it can be an effective method. But in my own opinion, it can be an effective method but only when we know the right meaning which is often hard to comprehend without someone else's help."

"Maybe God wanted to show us that we need each other, because everyone has different minds and if one understands sense of the parable, he could help others understand too."

The last set of journals for this unit stemmed from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount in Matthew. We spent a week discussing Jesus' teaching on the mount and asking the questions: "So what?" "What does this mean?" "How does Jesus say we are supposed to live?"

In their journals, I asked them:
How does the world define success? How do you define success? Do you consider yourself successful?

"The world say makes a person successful, when they have a lot of money and they belong among wealthy family. People, who have high position in the work, have the best model of car. But the world is failed because the secret of success is something different."

"I don't think the world is successful."

"Successful is the person who is nice, pretty, wealthy, has perfect job, is rich, is always smiling on your tv screen or on newspapers or is a celebrity. but this person isn't successful inside the heart."

"I think today's picture of a successful person is: good-looking, wealthy with a summer villa and a luxury apartment, three cars in garage and fantastic jobs, expensive holidays and one women for every day."

"The world says that a person is successful if he/she has a lot of money, a lot of work, a huge house, a nice husband and polite children..."

"I think that money and fame do not make anyone successful. Person who is successful is someone who is honest, hard-working and willing to help others."

"I think that only one thing can be you successful. It is your belief in God and your belief in your ambitions."

"So, a person could be successful, if he does not have much money, does not have any close friends, but puts up with that and helps those who need care."

"Am I successful? I don't know. I'm still searching for something that makes me satisfied with my life."

"In my opinion, my father is successful person because he stopped swearing and has strong faith. My mother is also successful. She is teacher and she has lots of problems, but she suffers them and has really strong faith."

"I want to have a really big family, live where I want and have everything I need for life. Health is also very important because without health, we haven't got sense. For now, I think I am successful. I have what I need, I study in school. I have a lot of friends, big family, not girlfriend - but probably soon, I hope.

"Am I successful? I have to confess that I am sometimes lazy and I don't do my best. I know that sometimes I could do more, but I just don't do it. I feel sorry for it later."

"If I take the definition of the world I wouldn't be successful at all. I would be one of the poorest people in the world."

"A successful person has a really strong faith."

And this concludes, my friends in the United States, what I consider to be a very powerful, open and honest sermon from my third year students. I hope you have enjoyed reading their thoughts - I know they have enjoyed sharing them.