A New York City Escapade - Part 1

Today the Bus Terminal at 133 East Broadway in Chinatown, New York City was in total chaos the morning of January 3, 2010. Temperature was 18 degrees Fahrenheit with strong, blustery winds. The girls and I were dropped off by Kuya Dante Sitjar to commence on our way back to Newport News, Virginia after an exciting week in The Big Apple. I did not want to drive this 8 hour journey to New York city and back, in fear of unpredictable snow or blizzard, so taking this “Chinese bus” was the best alternative, or so we thought.

The terminal was congested and people were starting to show irritation after finding out that there was a problem of overbooking and there were not enough seats for already-ticketed passengers. A group of rowdy young men started yelling at the petite Chinese lady at the counter, showing off fists and muscles as they demanded seats for the 10:00 o’clock morning trip. With broken English, she explained that there would be another bus that morning, but the crowd was furious.

After the holiday celebration, everyone wanted to go home as soon as possible and the disorganization of this travel office was too much to handle. Children were screaming, backpacks and suitcases were thrown in exasperation. Everyone in the room was complaining and shouting curses towards the Chinese lady. It was no help when I arrived at the counter because after showing her my electronic ticket, I was immediately issued seats number 1, 2 and 3 to the dismay of those who were before me. They did not understand that I had booked those seats for months and had priority over those who did not reserve ahead of time. I felt all eyes on me and the girls, and the atmosphere started to intimidate and scare me.

I tried to look calm and confident as Kristina said, “Mom, this is the ghetto.” I could tell in her eyes that she was also scared. I was starting to regret the idea of exposing my girls to this kind of environment. Will I be able to protect them if a riot occurs? I had lived in the Bronx years before, but had never been in a situation where I could be a victim. The room was extremely crowded now and there was no place to sit nor place our luggage.

All of a sudden . . .

Tune in next week for part II!!

By Raylene Baumgart

Recipe of the Week - Spinach and White Bean Soup

One of the things I love the most when the weather is cold and windy, is to sit in front of a big bowl of hot soup and enjoy! Here is a recipe you might want to try.

Ingredients
2 teaspoons olive oil
4 leeks, bulb only, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 (16 ounce) cans vegetable broth
2 (16 ounce) cans cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
2 bay leaves
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 cup whole wheat couscous
2 cups packed fresh spinach
salt and pepper to taste

Directions:
Heat olive oil in a large saucepan or soup pot over medium heat. Add the leeks and garlic; saute until tender, about 5 minutes. Stir in the broth, cannellini beans, bay leaves and cumin. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low, and stir in the couscous. Cover, and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir in spinach and season with salt and pepper. Serve immediately.

Christmas Traditions - Baumgart Style!

“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!".... Pretty soon, the lyrics of this song and many others will be heard on all radio stations.

After all the frenzy of unpacking fifteen Christmas boxes from the attic, the house is a Christmas wonderland. An 8 feet tall red and gold-trimmed Christmas tree stood resplendent in the family room bearing all the vintage collections since 1982. There are photos of the girls when they were still babies; there were homemade ornaments that the girls used to bring home from Pre-school and many handcrafted trims mixed in with the expensive ornate collectibles. There isn't a single branch of this tree that's left untrimmed. The mantle next to it is arrayed with Nutcrackers that I have been collecting all these years. Next, on a special gold table, stands the favorite ceramic Nativity set that has withstood all the hurdles of packing and unpacking throughout our constant relocations. Then there's our Victorian Christmas tree in the living room which is richly adorned with gold/white and pearl ornaments. This was always called "Mama's tree" because it holds all the ornaments that I love: fuzzy snowballs, flights of fancy cream-colored birdies, soft and plush bearded Santas, pearl-studded stars, all my soft and silky snowmen and snowdrops. It is quite a sight to behold. Within a few hours with all the helping hands, our home was transformed into a Christmas wonderland.

Then Kristi came down for the view and said, "Where is the 'parol' Mom?...It won't look the same without it!" I then realized that even though the girls are now teenagers, they still value the tradition we have began when they were little.

"Parol" is a traditional Filipino Christmas decoration, a five point star-shaped Christmas lantern. Originally made of thin bamboo frames and covered with colored cellophane or with rice paper also known as Japanese paper or "papel de Japon". It has two tails that serve as the rays of the star. "Parol" reminds the Filipino Christians of the star of Bethlehem that guided the Three Wise Men on their way in search of Baby Jesus. Every Filipino home has one hanging somewhere in the house, mostly by the window or outside the door.

Our "parol" is made from Capiz shells, shaped like a star and stands guard at our front foyer so anyone who comes to the house passes by it. Amidst the commotion I forgot our emblem of Christmas tradition. I went right back to the attic and searched for that one special flat box that holds the treasure that will light up our home and remind us of that beautiful Christmas story of how three wise men followed that star to find the Messiah born in the manger to save mankind.

Each family has different Christmas traditions. Whatever yours is, it will always be a special moment when as a family we embrace it. Since my husband is from Germany, we usually have an advent wreath with four candles on it. A candle is lit every Sunday until the four candles are all lit Christmas evening. Each person has also an advent calendar filled with chocolates so one gets a treat each day. We always have a festive meal on the eve of Christmas. We have special a dinner with everyone's favorite dish which we all prepare together. Each family member contributes a special or favorite dish. The kitchen becomes the center of activity, and what a mess we create by the end of the day! But the meal is always worth it. We use all the special china and finery and the tablescape is always out of this world. Last year, it was a winter wonderland, complete with black forest trees, some cabins and snow all over. Then after dinner, we exchange gifts taking turns in handing out special inexpensive gifts as tokens of our appreciation for each other...we also write notes to each other. There are always surprises and the "unexpecteds". On Christmas day, we spend it with relatives or special friends who live nearby. Our trees and "parol" stays lit till my birthday, the 7th of January. That too, is another family tradition.

By Raylene Baumgart

Family Traditions

One of the things I enjoyed the most about dating Trevan was being invited over to grandma Osborn's house for meals. I relished those invitations to Friday dinners or Sabbath lunches because Grandma was awesome at making good, old-fashioned casseroles. Growing up in Costa Rica, we NEVER did casseroles, and it was quite an experience for me the first couple times I ate at grandma's.

When Trevan and I got married, grandma Osborn gave me a recipe book with some of the family favorites, including a noodle dish that I absolutely love! I cherish that gift because every time I pull out that recipe book it makes me think of those first couple years of my relationship with Trevan, and of warm, cozy nights spent at grandma and grandpa Osborn's home.

Grandma and grandpa have been gone for a couple years now, and every so often I feel a deep sense of longing for the old days. When the Osborn's get together we always talk about grandma's food, and there is usually one of the old favorite recipes on the menu.

I am not sure if grandma really understood that every time she put food on her table, and welcomed us all into fellowship, she was creating a lasting impression on our hearts that would inspire us to do the same for our families. I cannot count how many times I have made that noodle dish and tried to replicate that wonderful feeling I had when I went to grandma's house.

One of my most sincere prayers is that God allows me to give that feeling of love and warmth to all those that share a meal with us.

By Shari Osborn
Picture: The Osborn family gathered at grandma Osborn's table. In the front you can see grandma and grandpa Osborn.

A Land Flowing With Milk and Honey

It was March 2006, when I and my daughter (Franshelsa) migrated to America. My husband (Wilfrank) migrated two years ahead of us. At that time, we were so excited. No words can ever describe the happiness that we felt inside not only because we would be together again as a family but another important point was that, we were going to a land flowing with milk and honey (referring to America). That’s the concept most Filipinos have of America.

In the Philippines, the fact that you pass the immigration interview and you get an immigrant visa makes you smart and intelligent. It’s not easy to get an immigrant visa because of the expenses and several exams you need to take in order to get one. Only professionals or those who have money can apply. My family, especially my father were so proud of me. Everytime he talked to his friends, he always mentioned to them: “Oh, I have a daughter who is so smart. She has two degrees and now she is going to USA." The sad part was, he died before I came here.

By the time I got here, I had developed mixed feelings. We were in the airport. I was so excited to talk to the people. They looked so different, some had blonde hair and others red hair. Their skin was also different from mine. And most of them were big, fat people.

I tried to rehearse my English before I asked one of the guards, “Where is your comfort room?”. He looked at me and say, “I’m sorry?”. His face was really clueless. I tried to explain further what I meant by acting and using gestures. Then he said, “you mean a restroom?”, with a wrinkled forehead.

Another point of language confusion happened when a man seated next to me in the plane asked, “What do you do?” I din’t know what to say, I was confused because it was obvious that I was sitting next to him holding my bag. Later, I realized that he was asking about my work.

This was the first time I felt like an idiot. It is so frustrating when nobody can understand you and you cannot understand them. I tried so hard to straighten my pronounciation, remembering the short vowel, long vowel, present, past and future tenses. I had an A+ grade and even received an award as “Best in Public Speaking” in my college. But it was definitely not working for me.

The first two years were really tough. There were so many adjustments: food, lifestyle, traffic rules, communications, the use of credit cards, discrimination and differences at workplace. I was so stressed I developed a hormonal imbalance. I suffered from 30-day bleeding and asthma attacks. My daughter had a hard time adjusting to the weather. She was sick every month, even had pneumonia for two successive winters. This was the hardest time of our lives and I felt like I was about to give up. I didn't have a job but there were so many bills to pay: house mortgage, car, hospital bills, prescriptions, etc. My husband was working everyday just to keep up with the bills. I could see in his face that he was tired of working overtime. He would always say that he had to work hard because he had two million- dollar babies because of our expensive monthly prescriptions.

Everyone says that that is America - work and work and work. . . . Then the recession came and so many people lost their jobs. Children got hungry, depression rose. Now, we are facing the epidemic of swine flu. Everywhere there is flooding, earthquakes and other calamities.

But inspite of all these sufferings, I’m still thankful to God for giving me these experiences because these make me realize that God is telling me something. He is telling me that America is not the place where I am bound for. I am bound for heaven. We are all bound for heaven. We just live here temporarily. And this makes me more excited. I can’t wait to see my mansion that was prepared for me by my Father in heaven.

I know that we have milk and honey here but it’s not flowing and we still have to go to Walmart, Ukrops or any grocery store to buy it. In heaven, there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more traffic rules, no more mortgages to pay, no more sickness; only joy and happiness.

My daily petition is to see you all in heaven, with our loved ones, walking with God on the golden streets. Then the host of angels will say, “Welcome to Paradise." 2 Thessalonians 5:18 says: ”Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.”

By Elsa Paypa
Elsa is pictured with her daughter Frankie, and her husband Wilfrank

Recipe Challenge - Mini Apple Cake

Don't know if this ever happens to you, but Trevan and I buy our produce at Costco, but because it is only the two of us, fruit usually gets too soft and over ripe before we can finish it all. My solution? Baked goods! It might not be the best thing for my waist line, but I would not have it any other way. The past couple weeks I have been making Apple cake with old apples. I found this recipe online, and I hope you enjoy the photos and enjoy making the recipe yourselves. We certainly enjoyed eating them at our Wednesday night Bible study!

I modified the recipe a bit to serve my taste buds, I am sure you might want to add or take out a couple things to dit your tastes.

Ingredients:
1 1/2 c. Oil
3 c. apples (cut into small pieces, or totally pureed)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. cinnamon
1 tsp. nutmeg
3 eggs
3 c. flour
2 c. sugar
1 c. coconut, shredded
1 c. chopped nuts
1 tsp. baking soda

Directions:
1. Mix eggs and sugar till the mixture is soft and well blended.
2. Add apples and oil and mix well.
3. Add dry ingredients and mix on low.
4. Mix in the coconut and nuts.
5. Hear oven to 350 degrees. Bake until cake is golden brown. To ensure that the mixture is completely cooked just insert a toothpick in the cake and when you pull it out it should come out clean.
6. Frost with your favority glaze and enjoy!

In the Garden

“Mom, come and look!” my 3 year old daughter calls out from her room. “It is very nice, honey”, I reply not knowing what she wants. “Things are crazy here; I don’t have time for that.” I mumbled under my breath.

My sink is full of dishes from this morning and I have to get supper ready in about an hour. The trash can has been sending me a warning of needing to go outside. It is threatening to stink up the whole house if I don’t comply. Every time when I walk by my bedroom, the overflowing laundry basket just stares at me as if asking me “when are you going to clean me up? Your husband is going to ask you for clean socks again pretty soon!” It irritates me when I faithfully make up a shopping list only to leave it at home when I go to the grocery store. “I will get to the dirty clothes when I finally have the detergent or Santa will have to delivery his present early”, I grouch. Yes, I need to finish my sewing project in time for grandma’s 90th birthday this weekend. I cannot wait to put my sewing machine away so that we can claim back our dining table. The machine has been sitting there for months and I should start charging rent. Picnic everyday is not as fun as people think!

“Now, what?”, I scream when I heard the baby cry.

Although this happened many years ago, our challenges remain today. Being a daughter of the King of the Universe and to our earthly parents, we have great responsibilities and accountability. How can I live up to God’s standard? I do feel overwhelmed at times & I don’t know what to do.

My Savior always reminds me of his words: “be still and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10. He would gently take my hand and lead me to his garden. We walk through the meadow together; enjoy looking at his wonderful creations. The air is filled with refreshing aromas from different plants and the whole place is covered with pleasing colors. I enjoy the sounds of the bubbling brook that runs through the garden, accompanied by the feather choir. What a magnificent orchestra!

With a loving voice my savior calls my name trying to get my attention. “Miranda, take my peace” says the Lord, “the peace that I give you is not the same as the world gives nor can money provide.” He does not promise me a rose garden but he gives me the assurance of all things because he has overcome the world. He shows me his pierced hands and tells me how much he loves me. I should not have doubt of his love; he gave up his life for me and my loved ones as well. I need not worry about their salvation but faithfully do my duties, and he will take care of the rest. He leaves me his words “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matt 11: 28-30.

I do not want to leave the garden but stay there with him forever. However, Jesus encourages me to go on a little longer, for he is coming soon to take all his children with him. He invites me to come back to the garden as often as I wish and drink from his fountain of living water.

Do you have the garden experience with Jesus? It is important to take time with him so that our strength will be renewed & our hearts will be encouraged. “He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” Isaiah 40: 29-31

By Miranda Cerovski
Miranda is pictured with her husband Ed.