Annalee Moore

On a normal morning in San Miguel, I wake up with the sun slowly rising from behind the mountain to spread its first shards of light through the blue sky, illuminating the various churches and other red, yellow and white buildings scattered on the hill that is San Miguel de Allende. I lie in my bed for a few minutes, admiring the beauty of the town from my window located on a hill that lies across the small valley in Colonia Olimpo. I get up, make some tea, play a game of rummy with Daniel, read a bit and then we begin the descent down our dusty hill, through the streets of locals cleaning their sidewalks with soapy water to Casa de los Angeles. I first heard of Casa de los Angeles while studying in Spain two years ago. I happened to meet Chris Leute, a fellow Spanish language student, while staying the night at a hostel in Madrid. Chris mentioned his two-week volunteer experience at a place called Casa de los Angeles. Fascinated by his few nice comments and the welcoming name of the place, I found myself jotting down the website among the many other notes and email addresses dispersed throughout my sloppy journal of travels. I returned to the states in the summer of 2004 and found myself looking forward to my last year at the University of Montana.

As the year passed by, I eventually became caught up in the inevitable inquiry to questions like “What is my purpose in life?” and “Where do I go now?” Like many approaching graduates I felt aimless, until one day while glancing through the tattered journal , I came across that website with the pleasant Spanish name for “House of the Angels”. I talked to my boyfriend, Daniel, and asked him what he thought about serving a purpose larger than our own fortunate lives for a while. He agreed and we got in touch with Donna Quathamer and found ourselves in pursuit of the dream of Casa de los Angeles. We arrived on the afternoon of the 26th of September, and were greeted by, the loco, yet, wonderful Mexicano, Miguel Hernández, the director of the daycare center. Our “tour guide” packed the car with our belongings and drove us through the winding highways of the heart of Mexico toward San Miguel, all the while teaching us in a truly passion-filled discourse, the expectations of the volunteers. We learned in this, our very first hour in Mexico, that, more than anything, more than performing hard labor or stressful work, we are invited to share our love and our simple presence at this daycare —- a place that, they hope, we might soon consider home. Daniel and I listened and stared in wonder at the colorful passing pueblos and vast campo. We were enthused, intrigued and, above all, thankful for a blessing we were only beginning to understand.

We have not in any way had a difficult time sharing our love and presence with the children at Casa de los Angeles. In the two and a half months we have spent here, we have become part of a new family. We’ve watched babies take their first steps, say first words; and, although screaming, crying and spitting intimidated us at the beginning, they have now become normal day activities that we might claim to be almost endearing. We have helped brush tiny teeth and wash miniature hands. We have participated with two year olds who sing and dance and listen attentively to the stories we read to them. They are tiny wonders, who might turn to me at any second and with a beaming smile and almost timid eyes say, “¡Hola Chica!” We have watched three and four year olds learn to color and cut, paint and paste. When we enter Casa de los Angeles we are greeted by the happy, caring voices of the people inside: “Buenos días. ¿Como están? ¡Voluntarios, ven, ven!” We have just entered a small house of miracles, a house truly full of angels. The children are crawling on us, wanting horseback rides, spins, wanting to attempt a game of catch. More than anything, they are wanting love and attention. They want a hug or for us to take them to the bathroom, so that they might sit there on the toilet and tell us about their weekend.

To say the experience of Casa de los Angeles ends with the children would be a great mistake. It is equally as difficult to leave behind the friendships we’ve created. When we first arrived we wondered if we would ever get to know the moms that work there. Miguel told us it was great that we would be staying for a long time because we’d get the chance to know everybody, get to joke around and feel completely at home. For the first three weeks we would enter the kitchen or various classrooms with a formal constrained air about us, never really sure how to get beyond the initial “Hola. Buenos días. ¿Como estás?” We began to wonder about Miguel’s claims. I don’t remember exactly when it was, but suddenly we ‘re going dancing, participating in regular conversation and joking openly with the moms. Every one of these women is strong, beautiful, loving and an amazing friend. We’ve been extremely lucky to know and learn from every one of them. Children, moms, other volunteers, Miguel, Donna and the whole atmosphere in San Miguel have all made this experience. I thank God and wonder how it is that so many beautiful people could possibly be gathered in such a small space in the world, truly working for and making miracles come true. I will miss my normal morning in San Miguel de Allende. I will miss my normal day at Casa de los Angeles. I will miss our nights in San Miguel, sitting on our roof, listening to church bells, watching the sun set and being startled by that random firecracker.