Hope

There is a house in the heart of the Northside of Syracuse that is inhabited by young women fully committed to amazing work.  The neighborhood, by some, is considered dangerous.  Most would deem it not desirable, anyway.  They live there because that's where the people they've decided to work with live.  The have made it homey and lovely and throw open its doors to everyone who is a refugee or volunteers to have meaningful connections to refugees.  These are not social rejects.  These are hip, smart, cute young women who are doing incredible things.

I squandered my youth and singleness.

But my daughter will not.  Her and her former teen missions teammates have been pleading with Cathy and I to start up the group again.  Most of us do not go to the same church anymore, so we weren't sure how we could pull that off.  In that mysterious magnetic pull that happens when things are supposed to come together, I kept rubbing shoulders with Nicole, the founder and director of Hopeprint, the ministry house described above.  Cathy and I finally figured out that Hopeprint was the perfect fit for the girls and a perfect way to get the group working together again. There was a need working with the kids, and the girls love to work with kids.

Tonight was orientation, and the girls met many of the young women leading things there.  All of them were very kind to the girls, and their enthusiasm hooked up with that of the girls and took off.  Now the girls not only want to run the class for the littlest refugee children, they also want to meet girls their age and be friends.

I feel so fortunate for my daughter to have the opportunity to form relationships with people from all over the world - to minister to them and learn from them. She has a bevvy of new role models. This is one of those times I shake my head in awe at a windfall I have received.
I have been noticing a trend - in Upstate New York, anyway.  Young single women are taking up the reins of real, grinding, amazing work.  Last year, on a teen girls mission trip, the girls met Rev. Sarah, a young United Methodist minister who was leading the charge of helping flood victims pick up the pieces.  On another adventure, they met Rev. Becky, another young United Methodist minister who has taken over a dead, vacant church and is trying to minister to poor and broken people in the neighborhood around her. Our girls are poised to do the same.  My daughter and her friend, on the drive home, were conversing about how cool Hopeprint is. "Maybe we could do that when we're out of college - maybe we could live in a house like that!"

Three cheers for the young ladies of Hopeprint and others like them, not only casting hope for refugees and others in the Northside, but also casting vision for young girls from the suburbs.