The Mountain Spirit - Jan./Feb. 1987

T h e M o u n ta in S p irit:

The M agazine o f the Christian A ppalachian Project

January-F ebruary 1987

V ol. V I, N o. 1

Contents Features W here Are T h ey N ow ? by G iovanna Burks G odby and M argaret G abriel C A P estim ates that it has received the services of m ore than 20,000 volunteers through the years. H ere we explore what a few of them are doing today.

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A Freshness in the Program

Sue R icalton, p. 14

by M argaret G abriel O ne of the very im portant aspects of Parents Are Teachers, C A P ’s hom ebound program for handicapped preschoolers, is the involvem ent of volunteers.

19

B u ild in g B etter L ives by M oira Am brose This project, affiliated with the U nited M ethodist C hurch, repaired 403 homes last year with volunteer labor.

21

L ittle L ost Lam b by G arry Barker V ernon W atts, with the help of Elsie and R ex, raises and nourishes five lam bs. O r are they pets?

Departments From Our Founder 9

R andom T houghts

10

A round the Project

13

Letters

14

The CAP Closeup

ASP, p. 19

Parents Are Teachers, p. 11

The M arch-April Theme You’ve often heard it said that volunteers are the backbone of the Christian Appalachian Project. In this issue, you’ll meet some volunteers—past and present. The spirit of the volunteers is so much a part of life at CAP, that while we d o n ’t really take them for granted, sometimes we forget to thank them and let them know how much we love and appreciate them. O n the C O V ER, Susan Jenna with Matthew Brock, one of her Parents Are Teachers students (photo by Gabriel). O n the BACK C O V ER, winter makes itself known in the mountains (CAP Archives).

Published by the C h ristian A ppalachian Project. E d itor, M a rg aret G abriel; A ssociate E d itor, G iovanna Burks G odby. A d visory B oard, F ath er R alp h W . Beiting; M ike M cL aughlin; Leslie B. L arsen; J a c k M orris; Bill Begley; R an d o lp h Jo rd a n . G raphics C oordinator, D ebbie Fraley W ilson; C irculation M anager, T h eresa Richey. The Mountain Spirit is published six tim es a y ear. T h e an n u al subscription price is $5.00. S ubscriptions an d o th er correspondence should be sent to The Mountain Spirit, C h ristian A ppalachian P roject, 322 C rab O rch ard R o a d , L ancaster, K entucky 40446. C o p y rig h t, 1987. T h e C h ristian A ppalachian P roject, Inc. All rights reserved. M em b er, C atholic Press A ssociation. T h e C h ristian A ppalachian P roject is a non-profit C h ristian service organization operating th ro u g h o u t eastern K entucky. T h e project operates on the philosophy th a t “ helping people them them selves” is the best approach to A ppalachian poverty.

From Our Founder It was Sunday night. A group of six of us were in the lobby of a small hotel in Rome, Italy. We had just returned from a two week trip to Africa. During the trip, we visited Senegal and Mauritania in West Africa, but most of the time was spent in Ethiopia, the poorest country on earth. We were from Michigan, Pennsylvania, Ken­ tucky, Wisconsin, New York and Massachusetts. In our minds were too many memories of the human tragedy we had seen. The leader of our group was a young man, nearly forty, who had spent con­ siderable time in Africa helping the starving, organizing help for them once he returned home. A young woman from Boston asked him why he decided to spend so much time helping people he didn’t know half a world away. It meant he was away from his wife and child for months. The answer he gave both surprised and humbled me. “ I do it because I was a volunteer in Kentucky for two years with Father Beiting and the Christian Appalachian Project. I learned to care for people, and I haven’t been able to stop ever since. “ You know,” he said, “ I don’t think I was a very good volunteer. I always questioned why we should do this and not that. I didn’t want to get up in the morning for prayers to begin a day. Things got so bad, at one time, that Father told me to go home. I wasn’t ready to really sacrifice for others. I went home, but within two months, I called and asked if I could come back. He said, ‘Yes,’ and I did. “ The volunteers in those days (late ’60s) had discipline and work. We thought of ourselves se­ cond, not first.” He went on to relate to the group how so many others, who were volunteers with him, felt the same. “ They got involved with people, some in America, some all over the world. We often talk, when we get together, about Kentucky and our time in Ap­ palachia. For most of us, it was the determining fac­ tor in shaping our entire life. We were an angry group of young people who felt our country, our church, our family had betrayed the ideals we felt important. As volunteers i^i Kentucky, we learned that there was a group of people who came out of the past but dreamed of a better tomorrow and were not afraid to work like hell today to make yesterday and tomorrow create a better life for people.” I sat there, listening in silence. My mind was reaching out, searching for the whereabouts of the 20,000 and more volunteers who had served CAP in eastern Kentucky in the last thirty years. As Ken said, they were where they were, and they were Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

what they were because of Appalachia, because of CAP and the volunteer family we had formed. In a way, I always think of the vounteers in terms of the work they did in Appalachia, the ac­ complishments they achieved, the people they serv­ ed, and the friendships we enjoyed. Now, a volunteer was telling a group of dedicated people that there were volunteers and workers in the troubled places all over the world because of what they learned and what they became as volunteers in Kentucky. The US, Africa, the world was a bet­ ter place because of what we were all about in the tiny Appalachian towns of Lancaster, Berea, Mt. Vernon, McKee and Stanford. During the past summer, I have traveled all over the USA giving talks on Appalachia and the work we do. In many places —Seattle, Los Angeles, H ouston, C incinnati, Philadelphia, New York —people came up to me and told me their children or nieces or nephews were once with me and how fondly they remembered the days of yester­ day. Perhaps that is what God is telling me right now. Volunteers are great, not because of what they did to help the poor of Appalachia. They are great because of what Appalachia and CAP did to them. They came with hope and left with faith and the conviction that all the world was their neighborhood, and everyone was their brother or sister. We, who remained behind, still nurture the flame. Our perseverance and dedication still create an excitement and a desire to imitate in the hearts of all those who served, shared our house, ate at our table and dreamed impossible dreams as we gathered around a campfire at night. 3

Where Are

I. Now, They Call The Mountains Home by Giovanna Burks Godby

I f Father Beiting was the brain behind the dream that is the Christian Appalachain Project, surely, volunteers were its arms, legs and backbone. With a handful of people, who were willing to believe in the dreams of a penniless priest, the Christian Appalachian Project was born. Today, decades and thousands of volunteers later, a steady stream of volunteers still comes to the mountains . . . and so, the dream continues. All one must do is look closely at CAP—its growth, its services, its programs —to see the ef­ fect that nearly 20,000 volunteers have had on the organization. One needs only to see an elderly Ap­ palachian who is visited by volunteers, a hollow resident whose water is finally safe to drink, the excitement of Bible schoolers, and the laughter of summer campers to understand the impact of volunteers on the Appalachian area. Many volunteers left the mountains after their experience was over to return to their homes and families or to make new homes elsewhere in the country. Still, many chose to call the mountains of Kentucky “ home,” and quite a few of those former volunteers are still affiliated, in one way or another, with CAP. No matter where they live or what they are doing, it seems that their volunteer experience with CAP influenced their lives possibly as much as they influenced CAP and the people it serves. 4

Marilyn Stefanski, a former volunteer, says it best. “ The most important contribution of Father Beiting was bringing volunteers from all over, and especially those volunteers who’ve chosen to stay and live in the mountains. It’s the long haul that’s going to count. It will come from those volunteers who have stayed, put down roots, and are living quiet lives. They stay with their values, and their children will grow up here. That is what will make the difference.” Two such people are David and Therese Reilly, who live with their three children in Berea. They met when they were volunteers together in the ear­ ly ’70s at Camp Andrew Jackson near McKee. Therese came from Cincinnati in the early sum­ mer of 1971, to teach Bible school and arts and crafts at Camp AJ. The following fall, she began the first kindergarten in Jackson County. The kindergarten later became a child development center, but Therese treasures that one year when she recruited children and taught them. Her kindergarten class graduated from high school two years ago, and Therese was invited to their graduation ceremony. Nearly all of the children who attended the kindergarten graduated from high school. David and Therese remember fondly their days as volunteers. Camp AJ volunteers carried children over a stream in the middle of the night to outhouses. They washed clothes, showered and brushed their teeth in lake water. Therese shivers, “ The water was cold, cold, cold.” Fifteen people slept in a small cabin on bunk beds made of 2 x 4s and plywood, stacked three high. “ We really didn’t expect to live like that, but there was a volunteer mentality about it. It was like the Peace Corps,” explain David and Therese. The Mountain Spirit

They Now?

The Klueseners feel that they gained a great deal from their volunteer experience. Kathy remembers, “ Going to church and having prayers every day really made the community for us.” Tony adds, “ I’ve grown so much from knowing volunteers. I’ve met some of the nicest people, and our group still keeps in contact somewhat.” Kathy explains, “ We like Lancaster very much. We still like being involved with CAP, even though now it’s on a very part-time basis. We have a lot of good friends here now that we’ve met through CAP —former volunteers and local people —who have really enriched our lives.” After all these years, Kathy is still working closely with CAP volunteers. She works part-time for CAP as volunteer admissions coordinator, corresponding with prospective volunteers and processing their application forms.

David adds, “ You didn’t come for the purposes of any kind of comfort.” Therese continues, “ It almost added to your own romantic idea of what missionary life was going to be like.” Of those twenty-four volunteers who worked that summer at Camp AJ, twelve still live in the area. When asked why they chose to stay in the mountains, the Reillys reply, “ We were fulfilling a basic need within ourselves. We always have felt the need to help other people, and we enjoy doing that here.” Their volunteerism did not end with CAP. Therese volunteers at their children’s school, at church, with the adult literacy program, and local social agencies in Berea. David coaches third and fourth grade basketball and volunteers at church. The Reilly children are also following in the family tradition. Last summer, they made weekly visits to the Emmaus Christian Life Center, CAP’S residence for elderly people, and played games with the residents. Therese says proudly, “ They realize that they’ve been given a lot. Now, they’re giving back. Somehow, it’s an expression of themselves, too.”

The Klueseners’ desire to help others did not end with their CAP volunteerism. When Kathy and Tony were married, they applied to become foster parents. The space in their home is limited presently, but they look forward to opening their doors and hearts to children who lack the love and care that they are so willing to give. Not every volunteer’s memory of that first en­ counter with CAP is blissful. Just ask Sister Terry Gonyea. When her volunteer stint was up, she said, “ I’ll never be back.” A year and a half later, Sister Terry returned. That was 1980, and today, she is still in the mountains and working at CAP’s Emmaus Center. Sister Terry came from New York to volunteer for CAP in 1979. She explains, “ I was feeling real­ ly empty inside, and I needed something to do with my life.”

Tony and Kathy Kluesener worked as volunteers in Lancaster, living at St. William Church, and working with Father Beiting on a dai­ ly basis. Tony, an Ohio native, volunteered for six months in the early 70’s and worked in maintenance and performed odd jobs. Like David and Therese, Tony and Kathy met through CAP’s volunteer program, were married, and live with their three children in Lancaster. Kathy, a native of Massachusetts, first volunteered for CAP in 1972 as a camp counselor at Cliffview. During her seven years as a volunteer, she also worked in Bible school, home visitation, and as volunteer coordinator. Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

S ister T erry G on y ea chats w ith som e o f the la d ies at the E m m aus C h ristia n L ife C en ter.

Sister Terry remembers, “ I didn’t know what I was getting into.” She found herself sharing living quarters, that were meant for six people, with twenty-nine other women. “ As soon as I walked in the door, I hear, ‘Sister Terry, you’re going to be our cook.’ ” Things degenerated from that point on. “ Those [volunteers] were just great. They kept my spirits up, and I was really feeling low.” She remembers the time that she mentioned that her television didn’t work. She came home to find eight televisions —one on the toilet and one in the shower. “ They just wanted me to be happy,” she smiles. No matter. When Sr. Terry left, she vowed never to return. But, at home in New York, she ex­ perienced that same empty feeling inside that brought her to Kentucky in the first place. She returned to Kentucky and to CAP, and in 1982, began working at Emmaus. It is evident that Sr. Terry loves her work at Em­ maus. She lives there and is on duty during the night. She cooks, cleans, runs errands, takes residents shopping and for drives. She doesn’t think about leaving now. “ This is home. The peo­ ple [in the mountains] take time to live. They’re special.” Marilyn Stefanski’s interview with Father Beiting, in 1972, was not quite what she expected but, yet, quite typical of him. While waiting to talk with Father Beiting, he approached her and said that he was very busy but to come with him, and they’d talk along the way. “ Along the way” turned out to be through the aftermath of a flood on the way to a trailor. Marilyn remembers trudging through mud, holding her shoes in her hand.

Still, this English teacher from St. Louis wanted to come to Kentucky. Father Beiting told her that what he really needed, at the time, was a secretary. “ I went back to St. Louis and learned to type with a fury.” During Marilyn’s volunteer days, she performed secretarial work, directed the Sunshine Center and began the Parents Are Teachers program. After her volunteer days, Marilyn headed the pre-school program at the Mountain Christian Academy. In October of 1986, Marilyn found herself, once again, working as Father Beiting’s administrative assistant. This time, however, Marilyn can type. Marilyn says, “ I stayed because I was caught up in the excitement. It’s never disappointed me. My work has been a vehicle for me to do what I think Jesus meant to be done on earth. I can give expres­ sion to what God is calling me to do.” Interesting that Marilyn, Sr. Terry, Tony and Kathy, David and Therese, along with thousands of other people from all over the United States heard about Father Beiting and his work in Ken­ tucky. Interesting that all these people came to join him and work to make a difference in the mountains. So many people have blessed CAP with their hard work and faith, and in so doing, were blessed themselves —so much so, that now, they call the mountains home.

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II. And Those Who Have Taken the Spirit to Other Homes by Margaret Gabriel I remember feeling very secure as a volunteer. In fact, we used to joke that the more secure we felt, the more work Father Beiting could get out of us. If we didn’t have to worry about the roof over our heads, we could work our tails off, helping people we came to serve.

M a rily n S tefan sk i rev iew s co u n tin g w ith a stu ­ d en t at th e M o u n ta in C h ristian A cad em y .

6

I can only speak for myself, but staying on as an employee was one way of hanging on to that security, so I have great admiration for folks who returned to their homes. Many of them didn’t have any idea what they were going to do when they got home—as they stepped out in faith by coming to Kentucky, they stepped out again when they resumed their lives. The Mountain Spirit

Gabriel

didn’t know we had,” Wink recalls. “ We realized that we could do hard, physical work —and we were in our early ’60’s then.” Every now and again—more so now, than in the “ old days,” (our current crop of volunteer smartalecks coined that phrase to make the rest of us feel old!) —we are able to use someone’s ex­ perience and place them in a job for which they have some background. That is not, however, always the case. Like Betty and Wink, many volunteers have aptitude for, but no experience with, a job that needs to be done. Ann remembers, “ I was constantly amazed at how a volunteer was given a job and then expected to do it. Then I sur­ prised myself when I just did it.”

As a v o lu n te e r , L orrain e C orsale con trib u ted m a n y ex cellen t p h otograp h s to The M ountain S p irit p h oto file s.

But the former volunteers that I talked to didn’t really resume their old lives. What they did and what they learned is still a great influence on their lives. Talking with Ann Bauer-Leffler, Lorraine Cor­ sale, Howard and Betty Winkelspect, Taffy Gebbia and Barbara and Frank Dempsey made me realize that there are some great fringe benefits to my job. In the line of duty, I got to talk to and catch up on some very dear friends. Ann Bauer-Leffler volunteered the summers of 1976 and ’77, at Camp Andrew Jackson. After those summers, Ann worked as a permanent volunteer in 1977 and ’78, in the CAP Child Development Center in Berea. Summing up her work, Ann says, “ Now, I see ‘responsibility,’ not as one word, but two: response-ability, the ability to respond. When I came, I wasn’t irresponsible; I’d just never been given any real responsibility.” Ann met Bill Leffler when he, too, was a CAP volunteer. They later married and now live with their children, Simon, Eli and Claire, in Wiscon­ sin. Howard and Betty Winkelspect, of Hun­ tingdon, Pennsylvania, represent a small, but growing group of people who volunteer after retirement. They lived and worked in Somerset, managing the Attic, driving the van tor tfte Children’s Discovery Center and CAPrice In­ dustries, CAP’s workshop for handicapped adults. “ Our experiences brought out abilities we Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

Barbara and Frank Dempsey, of Boulder City, Nevada, are another couple who were older than the other volunteers. They say that they surprised themselves at the way they were able to keep up with the pace of the younger people. Barb and Frank came in June of 1984, helping with the ad­ ministration and housekeeping for CAP’s summer camps. In the fall, they moved to Berea, where Frank, a mechanic, helped keep our enormous fleet of automobiles in running condition. Barb worked in the Attic in Mt. Vernon, and in emergency assistance. Barb and Frank say that they are now able to more readily see Christ in everyday life, especially in the people they meet. Barb says that she often longs for the slower pace of life in Kentucky. “ In the West, everyone is going somewhere fast! It’s not like that in Mt. Vernon. That’s one of the things that I’d like to share with people here.” All of the people I talked to said they have a more spiritual outlook on life. Taffy Gebbia, now living in Georgetown, Delaware, teaches dance and aerobics. When Taffy came to Kentucky, she was an aspiring actress, taking a break from the stress of forging a career in New York. Taffy learned one of her greatest lessons from Father Beiting when he told her, “ Never run from something, unless you’re also running to something.” In this advice, Taffy found that “ if you’re true to yourself, without airs, you’ll find true peace among real friends and in yourself.” Betty, Wink, Frank and Barb mentioned flex­ ibility as a necessity of living with young adults. This young adult says, “ Truer words were never spoken.” Lorraine Corsale, of Franklin Lakes, New Jersey, volunteered in 1983 and ’84, living in Lan­ caster, and working in the elderly program. She said that the by-product of flexibility is learning to accept others, rather than judging by your own standards. 7

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Corsale

CAP Archives

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CAP Archives

T a ffy G eb b ia.

A nn B au er-L effler.

H ow a rd and B e tty W in k lesp ect.

Ann recalls hearing once that you could ex­ perience community without living it. After two years as a volunteer, Ann says that there is very lit­ tle truth in that statement. “ Until you’ve cleaned a bathroom after someone, looked at them across the coffee cup every morning, worked with them, prayed with them, you haven’t experienced com­ munity.” When you get down to brass tacks, sometimes flexibility has nothing to do with prayers or work. Lorraine says that one of her great lessons in com­ munity living came during the Christmas season, when she and Kathy Considine were making cookies and listening to Christmas music. Tom Ossler came in and wanted to watch a football game on television. Well, Christmas cookies just don’t taste the same if your background noise is a Dallas-Washington game instead of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. But, as a compromise, Tom watched one quarter of football, then Lorraine and K.C. listened to Christmas music. Lorraine explains, “ Nobody was really ecstatic about that, but nobody was really unhappy, either. It was just part of living in community.” Lorraine still draws on that flexibility as she works in New York City, as a medical photographer. “ You have to constantly make room for other people but maintain your own space. In community you learn to express your own needs but learn to adapt to what others need.”

Taffy’s sense of community included the people she served. “ Yes, we were fulfulling a need with our visits and Christmas baskets and the rest, but they filled voids in my life that I never knew ex­ isted. When a kid would bend his head over a craft project so intently, my heart would swell! That’s one of the feelings I’ve never been able to recap­ ture, even in pther areas of church work.” All of the former volunteers that I talked to have been involved in other volunteer work since they returned home. All said that they feel a need to reach out, filling a very special place in their lives. Again, I speak from personal experience, but I think most people would agree that another of the unexpected fringe benefits of CAP volunteerism is a new self-confidence, born of that time-honored CAP tradition of “ just giving a volunteer a job and expecting it to be done.” I know exactly what Lorraine means when she says, “ I learned how to believe in myself enough to try new things. When I look at that time, I realize that it was a pretty brave thing to do, to pick up and move somewhere that I didn’t know anyone or what to expect.” Some people found new career directions as a result of volunteer work, but many more learned that they were not afraid to try something new because they had already successfully met that challange. c a p. The Mountain Spirit

Random Thoughts I wish that I had started long before I did. Volunteering had been in my mind since high school, but on the back burner, the farthest burner. It was easy to suppress the desire to volunteer and to justify why I should hold off. Somehow this desire kept creeping back into my mind, fighting for the front burner. In retrospect, it was incredi­ ble. Okay world, here I am. I’ve got my college degree and I’m ready for you —mixed emotions and all. “ Career” girl, that’s what I want to be. Volunteering —what a humane thing to do, but not now. I’ve got to prove to the world and to myself that I can make it out there. What a yuppie I was —I won’t deny that I liked it. Nice car, new clothes, spa membership, oppor­ tunity to advance, money. This is the world I had heard so much about and I was ready to see for myself. The life was glamorous, but how come I wasn’t fitting in? Something was wrong. The fast pace, the pressure, and the costs of getting ahead were something I didn’t bargain for. I began to understand what the term “ rat race” meant and I was part of it. In this rat race, values and feelings were often side-tracked, which I think bothered me most of all. It started to become apparent that this really wasn’t what I wanted after all. I can see now that it wasn’t what God wanted for me, either. I have found that when God wants something, no matter how much resistance He receives, He gets His way. His way is gentle, but per­ suasive. A year later I found myself going to work for the Christain Ap­ palachian Project as a volunteer. This was my opportunity to really do something for others. So, I set off, not knowing what to expect, to fulfill my dreams and see what God wanted for me. I promis­ ed God one year and one year only. Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

Little did I know it would fly by, and that He would want me to stay longer. Although I love children dearly and I love to play, I did not expect to be a teacher at a day care center. Lesson plans were not a part of my plan, and I figured “ I could have done this back home. What am I do­ ing here? How am I making a dif­ ference? This isn’t very funny, Lord!” But slowly I began to understand. A friend reminded me that I did not come here for myself. Sure, I could have done this back home just like I could do many other jobs back home, but I chose to do it in Appalachia and these children were Appalachia. I guess I expected to do great things, to build buildings, to change the world — something hard to do with no foun­ dation. The children easily became a part of me. I may never know if I made a difference to them, but I do know that they made a difference in me. Their hugs and their love made it all worthwhile. Now I begin my second year with great hope and anticipation. I am no longer a volunteer, nor am I work­ ing in a day care center. It seems CAP thought I’d be more useful in an administrative position, and just when I’d fully developed the art of playing! Life continues to be pleasantly unpredictable and I look forward to finding out what God has in store for me. Although volunteering was a detour on the map I had designed for my life, it was an experience I will treasure always. The people, the things I have learned, and the challenge of it all has made it both g ro w th fu l and m em o rab le. Volunteering may not be for everyone, but I recommend it for all who may consider it. To volunteer is to risk. It is doing something for others at the risk of not being understood or accepted. It

is recognizing the pain in the world and striving to do something about it. It is pursuing a better world, where love is the dominant force. At times it is humbling to realize that what you do is miniscule compared to the vast size of the problem. To volunteer is to risk involvement, to take a stand for what is right. It is sharing a small part of yourself and often receiving far more than what was given. At times it is scary and other times it is painful. It is a way of telling God how much you love Him. It is a blast! There is still so much work to be done. There are homeless, helpless, lonely and shattered people everywhere. The dignity and destiny of so many is at stake. We can make a difference. One thing of value that we can give to the world is ourselves —in any way, size, shape or form that we choose. There is potential for change and so much hope for the future. What a fan­ tastic journey it can be! If we invest our lives in others, what a happy world this would be. Had I started long before I did, I wonder where I would be today. A nice car, new clothes, spa member­ ships, opportunities to advance and money are nice, but I know they will not make me happy. Now I must ap­ propriately deal with the desire to have these things for they still have a tendency to want the front burner. People are more important and with God’s gentle persuasion, I will try to always remember this. This has been an incredible year, and I thank God for allowing me the opportunity to experience it. JAW. Julie Williams, o f Tampa, Florida, was a CAP volunteer fo r a year. A t the time that she wrote this column fo r AVE!, CAP’s volunteer newsletter, Julie was still a volunteer, but since that time she has become a CAP employee. Julie works as the assistant coordinator o f volunteers. 9

Around the Project

by the C A P N ew s Service

School in the W oods at C am p AJ JACKSON C O U N T Y -T h ey lumbered through the woods, arms outstretched, bodies hunched over feet that stepped slowly, cracking twigs and branches underneath each step. Then, suddenly, the leader stood straight up and began to skip, swinging her arms to and fro. The three and four year old boys and girls immediately followed their leader, skipping through the woods awaiting the next behavior to mimic. The leader is Kathy Fadick, pro­ gram coordinator at Camp Andrew Jackson. The children are part of the Jackson County Public School System and represent Kathy’s effort tow ard developing children’s awareness, respect, and apprecia­ tion of nature. One of Kathy’s responsibilities as program coordinator is to develop new ways for Camp AJ to be used by the community. “ We want to be more than just a retreat center,” ex­ plains Kathy. “ In talking to people in the county and assessing our facility and the needs of the people, I decided to try some sort of en­ vironmental study.” A fter talking with several classroom teachers, Kathy convinced them to bring their classes to the camp for a day. Kids came, ranging in age from three years to high schoolers. The first group to participate in the environmental study ranged from sixth graders through juniors in high school. The day began with a two and a half hour hike through the woods . . . with a twist. Kathy divided the group into pairs and blindfolded one person in each pair. That person was led by his or her partner over fairly rugged terrain. When they stopped, the students talked about how they felt being blindfolded and being led or 10

K a th y F a d ick ex p lo res th e b ea u ty o f n atu re w ith p resch ool stu d en ts in J a ck so n C o u n ty . T h e program spans all four seasons.

leading. Kathy smiles, “ It was amazing to me just what they got in touch with in just that simple exer­ cise.” The group continued their hike on a trail purposely littered by Kathy. The students had to find so many objects along the way. Kathy ex­ plains, “ At the end of the trail was one of the famous roadside dumps. So, the point made itself.” The students also made natural dyes out of goldenrod, sumac, and poke berries. They dyed headbands to take with them. Kathy read Wendell Berry’s “ Planting Trees” and sang Jean Ritchie’s “ Black Waters.” Finally, the students wrote their own poetry. Kathy’s excitement is contagious, and children love her. She laughs as she relates the story about a four year old hiker. She had quieted the group of preschoolers and asked them to listen to the sounds of the

woods around them. “ What do you hear?” she whispered. A wide-eyed little boy replied emphatically, “ I hear a hippopotamus!” Choking a laugh, Kathy replied, “ I don’t think there’s a hippopotomus out there, but wow, your imagination has good ears!” “ The point is to experience en­ vironment, and in so doing, get in touch with some of our own gentleness and the exhileration that comes from doing that,” says Kathy. “ I think that helps people be less abusive when they grow up.” Kathy’s dream is that groups will participate, not just for a one time shot, but will make continuous trips to Camp AJ throughout all four seasons. Given the response of students and adults thusfar, she says confidently, “ I really think that’s going to happen.” In the meantime, beware of the hippopotamus running loose in the woods in Jackson County! The Mountain Spirit

around the project . . . continued

O utreach Program s M ove In to N ew C ou n ties

and Rockcastle counties, 50 in Lin­ coln, 10 in Madison and 20 in Jackson.

With programs already establish­ ed in Garrard, Lincoln, Rockcastle, Madison and Floyd counties, CAP’S outreach program has moved into Jackson and Owsley counties. Outreach programs include elderly visitation, emergency assistance, Christmas baskets and a lending closet of items like fans and kerosene heaters and infant car seats that many families are not able to afford.

“ Last year I loaned 104 heaters and got 99 back,” Laurie said. “ And most people took a lot of pride in how well they were cleaned and kept up last year. In fact, peo­ ple wanted to know if they could have the same one this year because they know it was well taken care of.”

The program is beginning slowly, and efforts in the new counties are being directed first toward emergen­ cy assistance and the lending closet. Laurie Pollard, outreach program manager, explains, “ Unofficially, we’ve been doing emergency assistance for Jackson County peo­ ple for a long time, but they would come in to one of our other offices. With Parents Are Teachers starting here, and the child development center in Hisle, we decided that it was time for a more definite presence in the county.” During this time of the year, Laurie and her workers receive many calls from people who are having trouble keeping their family warm or meeting the cost of their heating bills. Laurie said that last year, “ I kept getting requests for space heaters that they could move from room to room. Well, space heaters just sky rocket electric bills, so I thought of kerosene heaters and to loan them to people from Oc­ tober to May.” Kerosene is an inex­ pensive fuel, and the heaters meet the stringent government safety standards. In the next couple of years, CAP hopes to supply every county in its service area with 50 space heaters, which are loaned first to elderly or disabled people, then to families with small children. Currently, CAP distributes 35 heaters in Garrard January -F eb ru ary 1987

Offices serving outreach needs have been opened in Booneville, the county seat of Owsley County, and McKee, the county seat of Jackson County. As the program becomes more established, CAP will search for new ways to serve the areas.

F ire D estroys Spouse A buse Shelter MARTIN—A grease fire in the kitchen of the Big Sandy Family Abuse Center, in Floyd County, destroyed the house the morning of Sunday, November 23. Two women, two children and two staff workers were unharmed. Eileen Recktenwald, program manager, has established a tem­ porary office, at CAP headquarters in Martin, and has set up an answer­ ing machine for the old telephone number, with a message that directs phone calls to that number. One of the women who was living in the shelter is staying with a staff worker; the other is staying with relatives. Mike Sanders, director of opera­ tions in Martin, said that most of the people in the immediate area have heard about the fire, but any calls that Eileen gets from women needing shelter are referred to CAP’s other shelters in Somerset and Mt. Vernon, or to a shelter in Hazard. The Hazard shelter, about 65 miles away, is the closest to Floyd County. CAP had been renting the proper­ ty and is now looking at the

possibility of renting another house for the program. “ We want to keep it going because there’s a great need,” Mike said. “ Eventually, we’d like to build, but for now, we’re looking at some other places. There was a possibility of using Chmp Shawnee —physically the place would be perfect. There are plenty of rooms, enough bathrooms and good cooking facilities, but it’s so remote that you’d have to get a four-wheel drive truck to get in and out in the wintertime.”

T h an k Y ou The response to our request for blankets and towels, in a recent issue, was overwhelming, and we take this opportunity to thank you. Before Thanksgiving, over one hundred people responded to the ad, sending more than one hundred blankets and over five hundred towels. Some also donated other household goods. Over 2,000 Christmas baskets were distributed this past year, and the blankets and towels were nice additions to the other items so graciously given by donors. Keith Gilbertson, program manager, says, “ We received several comments from people saying that they were happy to give some thing to a needy family because it adds a personal touch to their donation.”

C h ristm as B asket tim e , 1985.

11

around the project . . . continued

P arents A ttend Su n sh in e C enter

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson can help you write your WILL!

GARRARD COUNTY-Every­ one expects to see little children at the Sunshine Center in Lancaster, but this year, some big people are attending the Sunshine Center, too. The Center, for the first time, is of­ fering mini-courses for parents on topics chosen by the parents themselves. B renda M u llin s, p ro g ram manager of the Sunshine Center, ex­ plains, “ Thirty-eight surveys were completed by parents at this year’s orientation. From those surveys, we chose the topics that generated the most interest.” Once a month, the Sunshine Center conducts a mini­ course, specifically for parents, on issues such as nutrition, feeling good about oneself, caring for a sick child, physical fitness, ways to talk to children about sexual abuse, how to talk so children will listen and first aid. “ Nutrition was the most popular topic,” says Brenda. Recently, mothers gathered in the Sunshine Center kitchen for a mini-course on nutrition. They viewed a film and then rolled up their sleeves and cooked a nutritious (and delicious) lunch for the children. The mothers also compiled a book of nutritious recipes. One mother, Betty Ander­ son, commented, “ I enjoyed work­ ing with the group. I loved all the recipes we made and would like to do it again real soon.” Earlier in the fall, Sue Graham, a hairdresser and a mother of a child at the Center, conducted the first mini-course about feeling good about oneself. She discussed and demonstrated simple, inexpensive hairstyle techniques. A color consul­ tant visited the group to explain how colors can affect one’s outlook and self-image. “ Our parents are very interested in their children and the Center,” says Brenda. So far, the mini12

T h e S u n sh in e m om s fix lu n ch .

courses have realized an attendance of about eight, with new people at­ tending each session. According to Brenda, “ At a recent conference session, out of thirty-eight parents, twenty-nine showed, and five called and rescheduled. I don’t think one would see that kind of response in a public system.”

Send today for your com­ plimentary copy of “ How George Washington Can Help You Write Your Will . . . And Ideas From 11 O ther Presidents.” Just clip the coupon below and send it in the envelope provided in this issue of The Mountain Spirit.”

clip and mail today

Brenda is excited about the plans for other mini-courses. A pediatric nurse will lead a session on caring for a sick child. Aerobics classes will be offered to parents during the months of January and February in regard to physical fitness. A two night session will be conducted for both parents and children about good touch, bad touch, and child abuse. This spring, Brenda will con­ duct a session on how to talk so a child will listen, and the Garrard County Rescue Squad will teach a course about first aid.

Please send, without obliga­ tion, my free copy of “ How George Washington Can Help You Write Your Will . . . And Ideas From 11 O ther Presidents.” N am e____________________ Street ____________________ C ity______________________ State_________ Zip________

The Mountain Spirit

Letters Thought you might be interested in knowing what happened to the Christmas wreath of last year. Since it remained fresh well into spring, I left it hanging on the storm door, which is protected by being set into the house. Early in the summer I noticed a finch darting away each time the door was opened. Finally, my curosity got the better of me. Nothing could be seen, until I pulled the red ribbon aside to find a beautifully constructed, tiny nest, artfully concealed. By standing on a stool inside, I could spy on the oc­ cupants. Five wee eggs were soon being kept warm. I checked their progress daily from my vantage point —to see all five babies grow to fill their small home and eventually threaten to fall. One evening I knew they’d be flying off soon—the very next morning they were gone. I heard them a few days more. Then —I could finally take down my Christmas wreath! It had served its purpose well. Vivian Salzman Byron, OH

Reading The Mountain Spirit makes me so thankful to the Lord for the many blessings I have. I am 81 years old and on a fixed income, fairly good health. I admire the faith and courage of your dear mountain folks. Send my love and blessings to them. Wish I could do more.

I do enjoy The Mountain Spirit magazine very much. It makes us realize how fortunate some of us are when we read about the people in Appalachia. Let us bow our heads each day and thank God for our blessings and that we can pass some of it on to those that are less for­ tunate.

I’m a philosophy major and it fills me with pride and joy to see what good work Catholics and Christians are doing. We hear so much crime and violence in the media —newspapers, T .V .—I’m proud to read The Mountain Spirit. It brings a lot of happiness for peo­ ple.

Ray C. Alexander Dupont, IN

Mary M. Stowell Los Angeles, CA

Truly, The Mountain Spirit is a vehicle which conveys the pride and the elan necessary to keep dignity and hope alive in Appalachia. It is tough to be young anytime, in any place. Being an Appalachian youngster adds an extra dimension of difficulty. The Mountain Spirit is a unique and wholesome voice —so perceptive, so positive, so lovely.

The Mountain Spirit is very well done. I enjoy reading it very much and pass it on to my sister in St. Louis. My ancestors are living in central Kentucky, but I’m sure that, a couple of generations back, they passed through your area.

Clayton Ferrell Columbus, OH

I ordered a Christmas wreath this year and it was beautiful.

When you have been very poor yourself, you feel you can relate to others. I feel CAP is doing a tremendous job. I will contribute what I can, but my husband is retired and it makes it hard. Although I will share what I can, I enjoy The Mountain Spirit and look forward to each issue. God bless you for a job well done. Marion Faucett Cherry Hill, N J

Ethel M. Pratt Midway City, CA

The Mountain Spirit reminds us of the many life styles in the USA. We stayed in the Berea College hotel a couple of years ago and your young people made a great impres­ sion. God bless all of you for your efforts. Mrs. Ellen H. Wright Buena Park, CA Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

I was born in Owen County, Ken­ tucky, and grew up there. I was the son of a share cropper and knew what being poor was. I always ap­ preciated anything that I could get. That is why I am very interested in The Mountain Spirit and will help so far as my ability will permit. Harvey Raisor Chicago, IL

I think you are all doing a wonderful job. Keep up the good work.

Norma Ward Delray Beach, EL

I think the work you are doing is wonderful because you are reaching people who would otherwise live out their lives in misery and despair. I wish my limited resources would permit me to do more, but my budget is already at the breaking point. However, I do urge my friends to contribute whatever they can in the form of money or goods. May God bless your work at CAP. Kenneth B. Spicer Elkin, NC Letters to the editor are welcome.

They should not exceed 150 words in length, and we reserve the right to edit them fo r space. Address letters to The Mountain Spirit, Christian Appalachian Project, 322 Crab Orchard Road, Lancaster, Kentucky 40446. 13

The C A P Closeup

Wilson

Sue Ricalton: CAP By Way of Coincidence? by the C A P N ew s Service

S ue Ricalton’s home, in Berea, is light, airy and cheerful, with a huge screened-in back porch that backs up to woods. It bespeaks contentment and peacefulness —not unlike Sue, herself. The home is sprinkled with her weaving —a hobby that proves to be her escape from a gruelling schedule. The art that Sue weaves is an interesting, beautiful mixture of colors, patterns and textures. From a multitude of colors and textures, somehow, she discovers beauty, woven sometimes from dissimilar components, but coming together to form her creation, a Sue Ricalton original. Sue’s weaving is much like her experience with CAP. Out of a time of indecision, Sue meshed together several seemingly dissimilar experiences (some might call them coincidences) and, as a result, discovered the direction and contentment that is so apparent when one visits with her. Coincidence seems to play a large part in all our lives, but sometimes, when we closely examine the history we make in our day-to-day living, that coincidence looks more like divine providence. Such is the case with Sue Ricalton. In 1981, Sue found herself in her second year of college and wanting to change majors from in­ terior design to . . . what, she didn’t know. Sue decided to “ take some time off from school” to discover exactly what she wanted to do. She hap­ pened to make a retreat that spring in Rhode Island, where she met a nun who had just returned from visiting CAP. She told Sue of the interesting and exciting things going on in Kentucky. “ I was never really aware of volunteer programs. It was not so much that I looked around and chose CAP, 14

as much as CAP came to me through her,” ex­ plains Sue. Coincidence? So, Sue Ricalton arrived in Kentucky, planning to stay as a temporary volunteer and hopefully to decide the new direction in her formal schooling. That three week “ sabbatical” began in July 1981, and in 1987, Sue is still in Kentucky. She began her volunteer experience at Camp Andrew Jackson —quite a departure for an in­ terior design student. Sue remembers, “ It was a really, really neat experience —the children from the community and the staff itself. You work long hours at camp and get really close to people. There is a timelessness to it.” At camp’s end, Sue realized that she would like to stay in Kentucky as a permanent volunteer and work at CAP’S child development center in Somerset. There, she worked with three year olds and children with special needs. The following summer, she worked again at Camp Andrew Jackson. Sue recalls, “ When I first started as a volunteer, I thought I might like to work with handicapped kids. I’d never had any experience doing that.” A position became available, and in the fall of 1982, Sue began work as a volunteer at the CAP Home for Special Children. Coincidence? After six months at the Home for Special Children, Sue enrolled in nursing school and left her position as a CAP volunteer. While pursuing her nursing degree, which she completed last December, Sue maintained a close relationship with CAP, working as a nurse at Camp Andrew The Mountain Spirit

Jackson during the summer and helping out periodically at the Home for Special Children. “ Primarily, it was my work at the Home for Special Children that helped me decide that I wanted to go into nursing,” explains Sue. Coin­ cidence? In June 1985, CAP asked Sue if she would open the Respite Care Home. The home is a supportive service for natural, adoptive or foster families that have one or more special needs children. Sue ex­ plains, “ Families of handicapped children are under a great deal of additional stress, and the Respite Care Home is designed to hopefully eliminate some of that.” In the summer, the children come to stay just to give their parents a break for ten to twelve days. Parents were so pleased with the summer respite care program that they asked that it be offered throughout the year. So, once a month, a respite weekend is planned and managed by Sue. While the children visit, they encounter other children with handicaps, and often friendships begin. The children are encouraged to be as in­ dependent as possible, and physical therapy, medical care, and educational activities are built into the program. How fortunate for CAP that Sue had the experience needed to work with special needs children, was familiar with CAP and its mission, and had the medical background necessary to work with the children’s health pro­ blems. Coincidence? Sue’s compassion for the children and their families is evident when she talks about the respite care program. She was touched by the words writ­ ten on an evaluation by the mother of a cerebral palsied child —“ I missed him very much, but how nice to live like normal people for just a little while.”

Sue lo v e s to sp en d h er spare tim e w ea v in g .

Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

T h e R a in b o w R esp ite C are H o m e co n tin u es a c h ild ’s d a ily exercises d u rin g h is or h er stay.

This is just what Sue hopes to accomplish through the program —to help parents recognize the added stress on their families and that a “ respite” is one way to cope and deal with that stress more positively. “ The children love it,” says Sue. “ We follow through on anything the school or the family is working on—behavior management program, feeding program —and many of the kids have done real well. Sometimes, they are more resistent to their parents than someone new.” The children have spent overnights on a houseboat or at Camp Andrew Jackson where they fished and swam. They’ve made cookies and played games and, when possible, helped with the care of another hand­ icapped friend. Invariably, rested parents return to excited, happy, thrilled children. Sue smiles, “ It’s very satisfying work.” Sue set foot in Kentucky as a college student with some important questions about her future. Now, in 1987, through her CAP experience, she finds those questions answered. In January, Sue began her search for employment where she can more directly use her nursing degree. However, she looks forward to the time when she will return to CAP, and in the meantime, Sue will continue to be a vital member of the CAP family. And so, five years later, Sue finds herself full cir­ cle. She came to Kentucky to find direction . . . or was she directed to Kentucky? “ I don’t know that I would have heard about CAP or about volunteer programs had I not been on that retreat and had I not met Sister Barb. I look back, and I marvel at it sometimes. It all seems like it fell into place so naturally. So much of my life has been changed, and so much of that has been centered around my move to Kentucky. It has been circumstances as well as faith—the Lord just taking me from one thing to the next.” Coincidence? No, divine pro­ vidence. CAP. 15

A

Freshness In the Program

Story and Photos by Margaret Gabriel Volunteers and Parents Are Teachers, CAP’S hom ebound pro g ram for h an d icapped preschoolers, go together like cream and coffee. The program started, in 1978, as the response of volunteer Marilyn Stefanski to the need for pre­ school education for handicapped children. Since then, there has always been at least one volunteer on the Parents Are Teachers staff. “ They add a freshness to the program,” said Peggy Cook, program manager. “ I don’t think we ever get stale, and that’s one reason we don’t. We have people come in who have different skills, dif­ ferent ideas about doing things.” Many of the children who participate in Parents Are Teachers would be without needed physical, speech and occupational therapy until they enter the public school system when they turn five years old. Because Kentucky does not have a high-risk registry, a means of identifying handicapped babies or those who had a difficult delivery, agen­ cies have devised an intricate, yet informal, net­ work of identification and rely heavily on word of mouth. Even with this network, a handicapped youngster could arrive at school with officials totally unprepared to provide for the child’s educational needs.

Susan J en n a w orks w ith M a tth ew B rock o n ce a w eek and teaches h is m o th er h o w to perform the exercises d a ily . The Mountain Spirit

Parents Are Teachers staff are qualified to work with a child from birth until the time that he or she enters school. Before the child starts kindergarten, Peggy and her staff work to make sure that the transition will be smooth. When you strip away the structure and the jargon of Parents Are Teachers, you find the same thing that you find in all of CAP’s pro­ grams—people helping people, one-to-one. Peggy believes that the volunteers on her staff provide an important, but almost intangible, element. V olunteers, Susan Jenna and Brenda Fredericks, are assigned to Parents Are Teachers this year. Susan worked for six years as a physical therapist before coming to CAP. Brenda has cer­ tification to teach preschool handicapped children, and says that she feels more highly motivated as a volunteer worker. “ It almost gives me a reason to be empathetic or a reason to throw myself into it more,” Brenda explained. “ If I were paid, I could have an excuse to say, ‘I’m not going to do that because I don’t get paid enough.’ I have fallen into that trap before, then I kick myself and say, ‘I thought you were supposed to love your work!’ As a volunteer, I can’t say that, and it almost gives me a reason to feel more.” Susan came to Kentucky to broaden her ex­ perience with other people and other cultures. She says that living in the volunteer community adds a different dimension to her work, too. “ I get sup­ port from the other volunteers, that I didn’t necessarily get when I was working, because you —supposedly —left your work at work. Here, you get support in the community that you’re liv­ ing with and the other volunteers that you’re working with. That opens your eyes to things that you may not have seen otherwise. Some of my community members are working in child development, and they have some experiences, that they tell me about, that might get my mind working in a different direction on a problem.”

things. I think that really made a difference because the local people thought, ‘If these people are willing to live here and work with this com­ munity, then these people mean business.’ ” Volunteers sometimes have trouble maintaining their professional distance because of the friend­ ships that they establish with their families. “ That’s one of my problems,” Brenda admits. “ I have to work on that, but some families need a friend as much as their child needs a teacher. I like that added-on friendship.” Susan, too, believes that her friendship with families is as important as her role as teacher. “ If I can get close to a family and see the dynamics of the family, I’m able to give better suggestions in helping them deal with whatever they have to deal with. “ I get very close to my families, but sometimes you do need to distance yourself, otherwise you’ll take the struggles and frustrations personally. If a family misses an appointment or they don’t take a suggestion, you’ll feel like you did something wrong. This is something we work on all the time. When you deal with people on an interpersonal basis, it’s hard not to get close to people. You can get close to people at work, and get close to them socially, but where do you draw the line? It’s even harder to do that here. People take you in as part of the family because you’re going into their homes. You are a part of their family for a certain number of hours. But, it’s important that families remember that you’re there to provide a service. You don’t want a family to get dependent on you.” Brenda and Susan agree that one of the most important aspects of volunteer work is one that they have learned from other volunteers. They must bear firmly in mind that their role is to help

Jean Dages was a volunteer, living and working in Jackson County last year. Peggy says that Jean’s activities in the community added as much to Parents Are Teachers as the work she did with the children. “ Having Jean living in Jackson County was very interesting,” Peggy said. “ She and her husband [Paul Wilkerson], lived at Camp Andrew Jackson; they did not have the same last name —I think there were a lot of people who never really believed they were married —but they really made an effort to get out and meet the peo­ ple in the county. “ They became active in their church. Paul became very involved in helping to establish a food bank; they did a lot of community service Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

S usan , rig h t, and B ren d a , le ft, o ften w ork togeth er for the b en efit o f a h a n d ica p p ed ch ild .

17

families to help themselves or to help their children. For a child or a family to become depen­ dent on them or their services will spell disaster when they leave the mountains. The name of the program —Parents Are Teachers—is descriptive. The intention of the pro­ gram is to teach parents how to perform needed exercises on a daily basis. “ Parents are the teachers,” Susan said. “ It’s so wrong for people to send their kids off to school and think that they’re going to learn everything they need to know. If you think about where you learn the most, it’s not necessarily in the school. Our pro­ gram is trying to give the responsibility for educa­ tion to the parents and tell them that ‘what you do is really important. We can help guide and direct you, and we can be a support, but you’re the one who is going to be living with that child.’ ” Peggy says that the parents who participate in the program are anxious to be involved in their children’s education. “ We don’t have any parents who resist getting involved with their kid.”

“ We can help guide and direct . . . but y o u ’re the one who is going to be living with that child. ” Peggy and her staff educate parents in a couple of ways. First, of course, they teach parents how to work with their children. Second, they teach parents about other services and the laws that stipulate education for handicapped children. Because some parents don’t realize that federal law demands education tailored for the need of every child, “ there are a lot of children that are stuck in inappropriate educational programs,” said Peggy. “ We need to educate parents, and I hope that’s what we’re doing.” Parent support groups have become an impor­ tant part of Parents Are Teachers, but Peggy said that it has been one of the hardest elements to get going. “ The Lincoln County group is going really well. They have six parents who show up for meetings consistently. Just recently, they applied to CAP for a grant to buy a computer to set up a parent resource center. They are really en­ thusiastic. I heard today that it was one of the bet­ ter grant applications that we’ve gotten. This was spearheaded by a parent who looked around and decided that this is what the county needs, and she’s going to do it. I’m really proud of them.” Peggy believes that parents of handicapped children relate better to each other than they do to a teacher. “ I met a mother two weeks ago, whose child is 13 months old, and she cried the whole 18

time I was there. She said, ‘I feel so guilty about crying, about being mad.’ I said, ‘You have every right to feel that way.’ When I came back, I called another parent and said, ‘Please go out and visit. She needs to know what this is like.’ So Patty went out; she met this mother; she talked to her; and she had her at parent meeting Thursday night. Brenda had a meeting last week to start a group in Rockcastle County.” Helping to establish parent groups in the coun­ ties where they’re working is Brenda’s and Susan’s way of helping the program continue after they’re gone. They also believe that it’s a way to get to know parents even better, to take full advantage of their year of service. Brenda said that working among such spiritfilled, Christian people has been a very humbling experience for her. “ I look at some of the people I’ve met since I’ve been here, and I say, ‘Wow, I hope I can be like that when I grow up.’ Coming down here made me feel good about myself. I said to myself, ‘Brenda, good job! You’re going to do this for a year!’ Then, I got here, and I met a lot of people who aren’t volunteers —like the parents that I know —but are living a life that I want. And that’s just the way they are, whereas I’m strug­ gling to be like that. To me, that’s humbling, and it’s hard sometimes.” Susan had, originally, been interested in work­ ing in a third world country, but was attracted to CAP because of the emphasis on spirituality. Susan said that she’s always had a fascination with Appalachia, and saw CAP as a second choice, if there were no openings overseas. “ When it came down to the wire, there were a few countries where I could have gone, but they didn’t have the com­ munity life. They were always missing something. I knew what I needed, personally. I needed to develop myself, spiritually. I wanted to get my spiritual life more involved in my work life, because that’s not always consistant.” It would be hard to say who needs the other more. Does Parents Are Teachers need the input from the volunteers, or do the volunteers need to be personally involved with the families in Parents Are Teachers? Peggy, Brenda and Susan all tell of parents they know who like the idea of volunteers teaching and working with their children. Parents sense that volunteers don’t just work for CAP —they are committed to the area and its peo­ ple. Volunteers say that in return for this commit­ ment, they receive much more than they’ve been able to give. They know that the impact that they’ve made on the lives of their families have the potential to be long-lasting, permanent changes for handicapped children. CAP. The Mountain Spirit

B uilding Better Lives by Moira Ambrose

Photos Courtesy of ASP Hammers, fatigue, nails, sandpaper, dedication, drywall, tape measures and energy. These are tools of the home repair trade used by volunteers of the Appalachian Service Project. They are —literally —building better lives for peo­ ple in the mountains. Based in Johnson City, Tennessee, and af­ filiated with the United Methodist Church, the Appalachian Service Project (ASP) repairs the homes of needy people in Tennessee, West Virginia, Kentucky and Virginia. According to ASP’s Executive Director, Brian Rosencrance, volunteers make houses “ warmer, safer and drier” for “ persons who do not have the financial or physical means to do repairs on their homes.” However, repairing homes is only one part of ASP’s mission. “ We also provide a service to our volunteers by giving them a chance to experience the mission and ministry of the church,” says Rosencrance. “ Here in Appalachia, volunteers have a chance to give of themselves in a really personal way. Volunteering reminds us of the giving and receiv­ ing that comes about in carrying out the gospel message.” The Appalachian Service Project is committed to Christian ministry and example. According to an ASP information sheet, volunteers “ enter into Appalachia humbly —as guests. [Volunteers] reJan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

spond to requests for home repairs in a creative, selfless way . . . to share talents, skills and caring with fellow human beings in the spirit of love and acceptance.” In each of the counties they serve, ASP staff work with local leaders and social service agencies. They make sure they are not duplicating services already available in the county and receive refer­ rals of families who need their homes repaired. Families are visited by ASP staff three times before volunteers arrive. Rosencrance says that his group prides itself on thorough and complete home repairs. Volunteers work on a home until it is a solid, lasting structure fit for a family to inhabit. As a result, volunteers sometimes repair homes from top to bottom, out­ side and in. “ Rather than concentrating on the number of homes we repair, we want to make all necessary repairs, so we don’t have to come back in the next two or three years. We are trying to take a more holistic approach with our projects,” explains Rosencrance. During the summer of 1986 alone, 403 homes were repaired by over 4,500 volunteers. Volunteers rebuilt roofs, floors and porches; they constructed walls, outhouses and chimney flues. Volunteers also insulated, painted and wired homes for electricity. Due to a large material 19

donation, many homes also received durable tin roofs. ASP’s volunteer program runs full force during the summer. This is when the weather and numbers of available volunteers make home repair efforts most successful. Recruited primarily from high schools or church youth groups, each volunteer group comes for a week at a time and is assigned to one house or project. Volunteers live in 11 volunteer centers opened for the summer throughout the Appalachian counties of Ken­ tucky, Virginia, West Virginia and Tennessee. During the day volunteers work hard, pounding, painting, and building, but in the evening they gather for fellowship and spiritual reflection. Before arrival in Appalachia, each volunteer group goes through a training process. After fil­ ing a group application in November, two or three representatives from the volunteer group attend a regional workshop conducted by ASP and return to their church or school to share what they learned with the whole group. At the workshops, volunteers learn about the central Appalachian region and the specific county in which they will work. At the training session, volunteers are urged to consider how their experience in Appalachia “ will relate to servanthood and mission.” They also conduct a study on poverty in their home area before coming to Appalachia and compare their home findings with their Appalachian surround­ ings. As they leave the Appalachian Service Pro­ ject, volunteers are challenged to find ways to minister in their own communities. Volunteer groups pay a fee which goes toward buying materials for the repairs they will make. Corporate donations of roofing, flooring, and shingling also help provide needed materials. In 1985, ASP operated on a $572,000 budget, but that increased to $650,000 in 1986, with an average of $440 being spent on one home. Major funding for the Appalachian Service Project

comes from individuals, churches, former volunteers and occasional small grants. Money is also raised by the Youth Service Fund of the United Methodist Church. Recently, ASP built two new homes —from the ground up. The houses were sold, with no-interest mortgages, to families who need a new home but do not qualify for government or conventional loans. This is part of a new Home Building Pro­ gram operated through ASP’s Jonesville center, in Lee County, Virginia. Construction of two more homes begins in January, 1987. Another program, called “ A Cup of Cold Water,” provides water to families who previous­ ly obtained water from a creek, a spring, or a neighbor’s well. Contributions to this program go directly toward the cost of drilling a well, purchas­ ing a water pump, providing indoor plumbing or supplying electricity to a home that has none. Founded in 1969, by Rev. Glenn “ Tex” Evans, a United Methodist minister, the Appalachian Ser­ vice Project has been an independent, non-profit corporation since 1976. Before that it was part of the United Methodist Church’s Board of Discipleship. Rev. Evans, former superintendent of Henderson Settlement School in Eastern Ken­ tucky, started ASP with 50 volunteers housed at Union College in Barbourville, Kentucky. Although Rev. Evans died of cancer in 1978, his project continues to thrive. The Jonesville center, opened in 1983, provides year-round housing for volunteers. This enables adult and college-age volunteers to work with ASP on home repair and special projects outside the summer months. The Jonesville center also offers a “ tool library” to the local community. People can borrow anything from screw drivers to chain saws, as long as they return the tools to the library. The center also participates in a county­ wide food bank and provides emergency shelter for people who are burned out of their homes or need a place to stay in a crisis. The center is directed by a board of people who live in Lee County. In the near future, the Appalachian Service Pro­ ject hopes to improve its volunteer program by opening more year-round centers. The group also plans to increase the number of complete, new homes it builds.

A SP v o lu n teers repaired 403 h om es d u rin g the su m m er o f 1986.

20

These homes will continue to be in high de­ mand, since housing continues to be one of Ap­ palachia’s crucial needs. Similarly, as long as organizations such as the Appalachian Service Project continue to grow, more volunteers will have an opportunity to donate their love and labor to the people of Appalachia. The Mountain Spirit

L ittle L ost L am b by Garry Barker

Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

21

F o r helping with the spring lambing, Jess Jones gave 11 year old Vernon Watts seven bleating lambs, the weaklings from every set of triplets born into the flock. “ They’ll ever one die,” warned Harper. “ He give you all the runts, Vernon. Jess kept the ones that wasn’t sick.” “ They won’t die,” Vernon said stubbornly. “ I already got bottles and a nipple, and I put ’em in the smokehouse so they’d stay good and warm.” “ Who’s going to take care of your sheep while you’re in school?” asked Harper. Then he saw Elsie, six months pregnant, smile. “ I shoulda knowed,” groaned Harper. “ Well, son, if you and your mommy can’t grow them lambs I reckon it can’t be done.” He grinned. “ Eight of you youngens, strong as mules, and anothern on the way. You got good help, Vernon.” Elsie and Vernon bottle fed the lambs, and buried the one which didn’t survive the second day. The third day Vernon came home from school and ran straight from the bus to the smokehouse. The smallest lamb lay stiff and bloated. “ You fed him to death,” wailed Vernon. “ The poor little thing was so hungry,” said Elsie. She wrung her apron anxiously. “ I couldn’t help feeding him more, Vernon. I never knowed you could give one too much.” The five remaining lambs thrived, and after two weeks Vernon would come back from every feeding with his hands raw and bleeding from the frantic five-way battle for the nipple. “ Them little lost lambs is rough on a feller, ain’t they?” chuckled Harper. “ Elsie, I don’t want you to get in there with them wild things. And it’s high time you got them billygoats out of my smokehouse, Vernon.” “ They ain’t billygoats,” protested Vernon. Harper chuckled. “ Put ’em in the chickenhouse. It’s penned in so they can’t get out, and I reckon that dog of yourn will keep the foxes chased off.” “ Rex helps me take care of the lambs,” Vernon said proudly. “ They think he’s a sheep too.” “ I reckon you’ve got past the hard part,” said Harper. “ Come Saturday, I’ll help you band them lambs’ tails.” 22

“ Do what?” gasped Vernon. “ Band their tails,” said Harper. “ Cuts off the circulation and their tails fall off.” Vernon’s eyes widened. “ Why?” “ Keeps ’em cleaner.” Harper shrugged. “ You just do it. Makes them bring more on the market.” “ We ain’t cutting the tails off of my lambs,” Vernon said firmly. “ Nossir. We ain’t gonna hurt my lambs like that.” Harper studied, then shrugged and grinned. “ They’re your billygoats,” he finally said. “ Suit yourself.” That night Harper warned Elsie about potential problems with the lambs. “ Boy raises ’em up like pets,” Harper said wearily, “ it’ll kill him when it’s time to sell them. It don’t do to make pets out of farm animals, Elsie, especially not them that’s being growed to sell or butcher.” “ But the lambs is so cute,” sighed Elsie. “ All stiff-legged and clumsy, and they come like puppies when Vernon hollers. He’s got ’em all named, too. Becky and Red is the two biggest ones, Belle is the bashful acting one, Christopher is the least, and Buck’s the little mean one.” “ You’re as bad as Vernon,” groaned Harper. “ Sheep is like chickens, Elsie. They ain’t pets.” He lay back to think. “ By summer, them lambs will be growed up enough to where they’ll stop acting like puppydogs, and then Vernon won’t mind selling them.” The growing lambs terrorized Elsie’s hens and the yellow cat. “ They got to go out in the field,” she ordered. “ My hens has quit laying, and half the hide is gone off the tomcat’s tail.” “ They’re just playing,” protested Vernon. “ Them and Rex has lots of fun. Besides, they’d get lost out in the field.” “ No they won’t,” snapped Elsie. “ They won’t go far enough away from the house to where they can’t see you coming with that bottle.” She sighed. “ Ain’t they about big enough to wean?” “ Maybe,” whispered Vernon, “ but I like to feed them.” “ Get them sheep out of my chickenhouse,” ordered Elsie. Vernon led the lambs out into the field and The Mountain Spirit

shut the gate. The excited pets ran, explored, munched the new March grass, but tried to follow Vernon back into the yard. “ No,” he said sadly. “ You all have to live out here now.” Vernon made it halfway to the house before he gave in to the plaintive bleating. “ I’ll fix you a place in the barn,” he decided. “ And Rex, he’ll sleep with you at night so you won’t get so lonesome.” Vernon opened a shed door, forked down loose hay, and locked the lambs inside. “ You stay, Rex,” he ordered. The dog hesitated, tail drooped. “ Just for a night or two,” pleaded Vernon, “ until they get used to it. Then you can come back up to the house.” Rex sat reluctantly, watched Vernon leave, then crawled slowly back into the shed with the lambs. The sheep adjusted to life on the hillside, but were quick to slip through any open gate or hole in the fence to get to the house. Only Vernon or Elsie could command the wild little flock. The others had to call for Rex and have him herd his playmates back out to the fields. “ Them sheep is worse than a bunch of wild youngens,” complained Harper. “ That Buck, he butted me right flat on my face. Snuck up on me, while I was tying Reba’s shoes, and knocked me about twenty feet.” Elsie giggled and Harper glared. “ And them two biggest ones, they’ve et your flowerbed plumb clean.” “ What?” screeched Elsie. “ Why didn’t you say so?” She waddled off angrily. “ Vernon!” she yelled. “ You get them billygoats out of this yard right now!” Vernon started to protest, took one look at his mother’s face, and ran to rescue his pets. “ I never seen a woman as big as you that could move so fast,” chuckled Harper. “ But don’t you get around them lambs, Elsie. Not with the baby due any day now.” On Sunday morning Harper drove to Gimlet to fetch back his mother Rose to help with the new baby, and that very night Bub was born, delivered by Rose and old Doctor Gray. Vernon slept through all the excitement and didn’t know what had happened until he missed Elsie at breakfast. “ Where’s Mommy?” he asked sleepily. Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

“ Come and look,” giggled Reba. “ We got us a new baby.” “ Go look, then eat your breakfast and get ready for school,” ordered Rose. In the bustle Vernon forgot to visit and feed the lambs, penned in the barn, and he forgot to tell Rose he had five oversized pets. By mid­ morning the restless sheep managed to kick and butt the sagging barn door open and escape to the field, and in the afternoon they came searching for their young master. Rose, when she went to the henhouse for eggs, hadn’t fastened the gate securely. Buck nosed the gate open, and five happy lambs charged into the yard. Rex met them, wagging happily, and joined in the rough play. The lambs circled the house twice, searching for Vernon or Elsie, then clattered up the front porch steps. Rose, resting in the rocking chair, heard the thumping. “ You expecting company, Elsie?” she asked. “ Sounds like somebody on the porch.” Elsie, from the bedroom where Rose insisted she stay confined for at least two weeks, laughed. “ Go let them in, Rose. It’s probably Lela coming to see the baby.” Rose groaned, dragged herself up out of the chair and hobbled to the door. “ I’m a coming,” she yelled. “ Just hold your horses.” Rose twisted the doorknob. “ Howdy,” she started. “ I’m . . . ” Five lambs burst through the door, followed by Rex, barking and leaping and chasing. Rose bounced off the wall and stared. “ Oh, my God,” she moaned. The lambs skidded on the waxed linoleum, crashed into chairs and lamps, bumped and pushed and bleated and knocked over the Warm Morning heatstove. “ Elsie!” screamed Rose, “ they’s wild goats in the house!” She grabbed a broom and swatted Buck, who spun, lost his footing, and slid under a table. Rose ran across the room, ducked into the bedroom and slammed the door. “ What in the world?” asked Elsie. “ A whole herd of wild sheep,” gasped Rose. “ One of ’em tried to kill me. And a dog too, that jumped right up on the couch and barked at me.” 23

“ T hem ’s Vernon’s p e t lambs. They’ve come to see the baby. ”

Elsie giggled. “ Them’s Venron’s pet lambs. They’ve come to see the baby.’’ “ Pets?” snarled Rose. “ Them things are tearing down the whole house.” Something crashed to the floor. “ Where does Harper keep his shotguns?” Elsie sat up in the bed. “ You stay here, Rose,” she ordered, ’’and I’ll go get the lambs out of the house.” “ You can’t get up out of bed yet,” wailed Rose. “ You’ll catch the milk leg. Besides that, them crazy things is like to stomp you to death.” Elsie swung her feet to the floor. “ They’re mine and Vernon’s pets,” she said. “ They won’t hurt me.” The lambs heard Elsie’s voice and bleated hopefully. “ See?” said Elsie. “ They’re looking for me.” She walked slowly to the door and pushed it open. “ Buck! Becky! All of you be still! Rex, help me get them out.” Elsie marched to the back door. “ Out,” she ordered. “ All of you.” The lambs bolted out and Rex followed, his tail tucked. “ I’ve got to get them back in the field now,” said Elsie. She stared. “ Rose, you left the gate unlatched.” “ You got to get back in that bed,” directed Rose. “ Me and that little hound will run the sheep back. Where’s me a club?” “ Don’t you hit them,” warned Elsie. Rose was screeching, swinging the broom, and Rex and the lambs were running in frantic circles when the schoolbus pulled up. Vernon was the first one off, and he came running. “ Stop it, Grandma!” he wailed. “ Don’t you hurt my lambs!” Rose stopped, leaned on the broom and wiped sweat from her forehead. “ Me?” she asked. “ Hurt them? The little devils has already chased me all over the house and yard, and that was after they knocked over the stove and caused your Mommy to suffer Lord knows what.” Rose stopped for breath. “ You get these critters out of the yard,” she ordered, “ and if I was you I’d get me another dog. That’n ain’t fit for nothing. He’s the ringleader of it all.” Rex tried to hide behind Vernon’s legs. “ They got in the house?” Vernon asked 24

weakly. “ How?” “ Knocked me out of the way and tromped right in,” snapped Rose. “ If it was up to me we’d have lamb for supper. That little one with the horns’d be et first off.” “ That’s Buck,” whispered Vernon. “ Just take them devils back to the barn,” said Rose. “ Then you and me and your Daddy will have us a talk.” Vernon led the lambs back out into the field. “ It’s my fault,” he told them. “ I forgot to let you out this morning.” Buck butted him from behind and sent Vernon sprawling. Rex attacked, licking furiously, and the lambs bucked and kicked in happy circles. Rose was watching from Elsie’s bedroom window. “ Lord have mercy,” she said. “ They are pets, ain’t they?” “ I told you,” smiled Elsie. She hesitated. “ It’d be just as well, Rose, if we could clean up the mess before Harper gets home and not tell him about this.” “ Fat chance,” snorted Rose. “ In case you’ve forgot, your other seven youngens was watching and listening when I got after Vernon, and right now they’re all helping straighten the place up. One of ’em will have to tell Harper.” It was Reba who met Harper at the car and told him the whole story in one excited burst. “ And Grandma said,” Reba added importantly, “ that now Mommy’d get the milk leg from getting up so soon after having the baby.” “ Let’s don’t kill off your Mommy just yet,” Harper said calmly. “ Where’s Vernon at now?” “ Off somewheres with them sheep,” said Reba. “ He’s half sheep hisself. Or half dog, I don’t know which one.” “ I’m fine,” Elsie assured Harper. “ I was just up for a minute. Rose got excited, and scared. It wasn’t that bad.” “ If Mom could have laid her hands on a shotgun,” chuckled Harper, “ Vernon would have him a sheep or two with a lot less wool.” After supper Harper helped Vernon patch the barn door. “ That’ll hold the critters,” grunted Harper. “ Just don’t you forget to let ’em out tomorrow.” “ They didn’t really hurt Mommy, did they?” Vernon asked anxiously. “ I reckon not,” said Harper. He lit a The Mountain Spirit

cigarette and finally spoke. “ But pretty soon, Vernon, maybe in six weeks, you got to get around to thinking about selling them lambs.” “ Do I have to?” Harper nodded. “ We can’t keep no flock, and five full growed sheep wouldn’t make much in the way of pets.” He stubbed out his cigarette. “ I got to get back to the house. Your grandma wants a new coat of paint on that old crib.” Vernon sat with Rex and the lambs for a long time before he crept back to the house and went to bed. The next six weeks passed too quickly. Rose went home after two weeks, when school was over and the girls were home to help, and Vernon, Roy, Prissy, and Harper sat out five acres of tobacco. There was hay to cut, and Vernon helped Jess Jones mow his 200 acres, the two of them working teams of big draft horses hitched to green and yellow John Deere mowing machines. Harper, who held down a full time carpentering job in addition to farming, seemed to have forgotten about the lambs. Buck, Becky, Belle, Red, and Christopher grew into sleek, fat, independent young animals, still quick to respond to Vernon’s whistle but seldom interested in play. “ They’ve growed up,” said Elsie. “ Just like your little brother here, only lots faster.” Bub was fat, redfaced, hungry most of the time, and very loud. “ Are we gonna sell Bub too when he gets a little fatter?” asked Vernon. Elsie smiled sadly. “ I know it’s going to be hard, Vernon, but it’s got to be done. You don’t have to worry. Your lambs is so fat and healthy some farmer will buy them to keep in his flock. They won’t be . . . ” “ Eat?” blurted Vernon. “ Yes they will too. That’s what happens to all of ’em. People eats them.” He made a face. “ What’s the difference between sheep and the chickens and hogs?” asked Elsie. “ You sure do love pork chops and chicken wings.” “ Chickens is dumb,” snorted Vernon. “ And hogs is nasty. My lambs are smart, and clean, and . . . ” He burst into tears. “ And they’re gonna get eat by rich people up in New York and Lexington.” In early August Harper tried, two straight Jan u ary -F eb ru ary 1987

Saturdays, to talk Vernon into sending the lambs to the stockyards. The third week he took matters into his own hands. At daybreak, before Vernon was even awake, Eddie Lawson backed his big black cattle truck up to the rotted old loading chute. “ Where’s them sheep?” he asked Harper. The sleepy, curious lambs huddled together in the barnyard and watched. Rex was busy sniffing the truck tires. Eddie opened the rear gate of the cattle racks. “ Run ’em in here, Harper,” he said. Harper tried. Eddie climbed down to help. The lambs bolted, ran in circles, and Rex hid under the truck. After ten minutes of chasing Harper gave up. “ Wait here a minute,” he told Eddie. “ Don’t let ’em get out of the barnyard.” Harper headed toward the house. “ What are you going to do?” Elsie asked as Harper marched through the kitchen. “ Never you mind,” growled Harper. He went into the boys’ bedroom and came back dragging Vernon, still half asleep and already crying. Elsie watched from the kitchen window as Harper led Vernon to the barnyard. Rex came out from under the truck, snarling and bristled, and Harper kicked at him. “ Better shut him up,” ordered Harper. Vernon stooped to hug the nervous dog. “ I ain’t got all day,” reminded Eddie Lawson. “ Lead them sheep up into that truck,” ordered Harper. “ Right now.” “ I can’t,” pleaded Vernon. Harper glared. Vernon slumped, turned and stumbled up the ramp. The lambs followed. “ Now, you and your hound get out of there,” yelled Eddie. Vernon carried Rex out and sat him down. Eddie dropped the tailgate shut. “ Fattest lambs I ever seen,” he said. “ How come they still got their tails?” Harper didn’t answer for a minute; he was watching as Vernon and Rex trudged off down the ridge and vanished into the morning fog. “ They’re the boy’s pets,” he finally said. “ He raised ’em on bottles. Him and Elsie did.” He met Eddie’s stare. “ Don’t you look at me like that,” growled Harper. 25

“ W ould y o u tell him, f o r me, that . . . that I ju s t done w hat I was hired to do?”

Eddie toed the barnyard dirt and looked at the lambs huddled in the corner of the truckbed. “ Might just buy ’em myself,” he said softly. “ Whatever,” grunted Harper. “ You better get going.” Harper walked slowly back to the house. “ Where’s Vernon?” asked Elsie. “ Him and the dog went off over the hill,” Harper said grimly. “ I don’t expect they’ll be back for a while.” He fumbled for a cigarette, sat down at the table, shook his head, and looked up at Elsie. “ They had to go,” he whispered. “ I know.” Elsie busied herself with cooking and wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron. “ Of course they had to.” Vernon still had not come home when, in the afternoon, Eddie Lawson brought the check. “ It like to killed me to haul off that boy’s lambs, Miss Watts,” he said. “ This check is for Vernon. His lambs brought top dollar. I’d have bought ’em myself if they hadn’t gone so high.” “ How much do we owe you for the hauling?” asked Elsie. “ Not a dime,” Eddie said quickly. He stood, twisting his cap in his hands. “ How’s Vernon?” “ Still off in the woods,” said Elsie. “ Him and the dog.” “ Well.” Eddie fidgeted awkwardly. “ Would you tell him, for me, that . . . that I just done what I was hired to do?” “ He knows that, Eddie,” Elsie said softly. “ I appreciate you worrying about Vernon.” When Eddie was gone Reba eagerly asked how much money Vernon got. Elsie looked at the stockyards check. “ It’s for $118.00,” she said. “ That’s a lot of money,” said Reba. “ Yes,” said Elsie. “ That’s a lot of money, I reckon.” She folded the check and put it in her apron pocket and went to see about Bub. It was getting dark when Vernon and Rex came slowly back up the hillside to the house. Elsie was in the backyard, stringing beans, and the rest were out front listening to the radio. Vernon slumped to the ground beside Elsie’s chair. “ They’s some chicken and beans in the kitchen for you,” she said. “ I reckon you and Rex is hungry.” 26

“ Yeah.” Vernon stared off at the empty hillside. Elsie found the check. “ Eddie brung this for you.” Vernon unfolded the check and studied it. Elsie took a deep breath. “ Eddie said to tell you a man from Mason County bought the lambs. He’s got a great big flock of sheep, Eddie said, and he wanted your lambs to keep. For the wool and such. This way they’ll get to be with other sheep, and live real good, and it don’t hurt ’em much to get sheared.” She paused. “ Ain’t that good, Vernon?” “ Yeah,” he whispered. Vernon tucked the check into his ragged billfold. “ What’re you going to do with all of that money?” asked Elsie. “ Get you a new baseball glove? Or that .22 rifle you seen over at Watson’s?” “ Ain’t going to cash it,” grunted Vernon. “ Ain’t going to buy nothing.” He stood up and went off into the house. Harper came out of the shadows. “ That was some lie, Elsie,” he said. Elsie shrugged. “ How do you know it wasn’t ever word the truth?” Harper smiled. “ I reckon I don’t.” “ Neither does Vernon,” smiled Elsie. Vernon did decide to believe Elsie’s story, but avoided Harper for two weeks and never did cash his check. Elsie found it, with Vernon’s signature scrawled across the back, tucked in her apron pocket. She used the money to order school chothes and to have a roll of film developed. But she never gave Vernon the pictures of him, Rex, and the lambs until he was out of college, and even then she winced at the look in his eyes as he remembered. And Elsie wept quietly when, almost 30 years later, she read what Vernon had written for an anthology: I sold my five bottle-fed orphan lambs there, cried fo r two days, and refused to cash the check out o f a deep guilt over selling my oversized pets. My mother finally convinced me that my lambs, fa t and healthy as they were, had been bought fo r breeding instead o f lamb chops. I sure do hope she was right. The Mountain Spirit

Help Make a Difference! F o r n early th irty years, the v olunteers of the C h ristia n A p p alach ian P roject have helped to m ake a difference to the people in the hills of eastern K en tu ck y . O u r volu n teers com e from all over th e U n ite d States a n d have a g reat variety o f skills to share w ith the people here. B ut, as any v o lu n teer will tell you, w hat you gain far exceeds w hat you give. W e can p ractically g u a ra n tee im p o rta n t, b u t intan g ib le th in g s, like new friends, new skills, selfconfidence. J o in us, w o n ’t you, for an a d v en tu re in A ppalachia? F or m ore in fo rm atio n , w rite: K a th y K lu esen er C h ristia n A p p alach ian P roject 322 C ra b O rc h a rd R o a d . L an c aste r, K en tu ck y 40446

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N O N -P R O F IT O R G A N IZ A T IO N U .S . P O S T A G E P A ID Christian Appalachian Project

C H R IS T IA N A P P A L A C H IA N P R O J E C T 322 CRAB ORCHARD RD., LANCASTER, KY 40446 The Mountain Spirit