I am sitting at a work table the brothers use to make 8 inch wooden crosses, some they wear on their belts and some they sale. The crosses are works of art made to a loose set of dimension, but better tools mean a more homogenized result. I have seen safely knives, broken glass, wheel grinders, and full wood shops to create these symbols of the Christian yoke. In Kansas City, Kansas, at the Shalom House Men’s Shelter, you can tell by Sister Agatha’s or Sister Paula’s stained hands when they in production. Other tale tell signs are piles of tree limbs, wood shavings, poly-cans, shards of glass bottles, and spent razor boxes.

In Brazil, there are more industrious methods to creating them. They cut them out of wood planks with jig saws along with using tree limbs to utilize more wood and save time finding those perfect limbs. I saw near Sao Paulo at order’s drug rehabilitation mission called the chácara de San Francisco, or the St. Francis country house, that very assembly line from jig saw, to grinder, to sander.  I am staying in Governador Valadares in the state of Minas Gerais, at this house the brothers have two grinders. One can be set on a weighted stand which I sit next to now, and the other is on a get up I have yet to ask about.  My idea is you can grind the wood as you petal on an old exercise bike.  The handles have been replaced with the other grinder mounted to a board. I will need to check on that, but it’s colder to say the order is going green.

My mind wandered off of crucifixes as I gazed at the giant cockroach chattering by my feet. He just seemed to know where he was going and I didn’t feel inclined to direct him as he disappeared across the room and out of sight. Settling my eyes into the night sky, I was overcome by the moon over the favela’s roofs. The last two nights I saw the moon gain size and intensity at wild rates, growing from a distant bead to an electric lemon. Now I stood and walked over to the half wall of the upper floor of the casa to watch.  Under my vista are six families living in what would fit in basketball court – give or take. I can’t tell if the rain keeps from running into their living areas, nothing seems to be very water tight.

Brother Gabriel, my handler and professor of Portuguese for the next four weeks, paused in his thoughts’ audibly by clearing his throat and smacking his lips. I heard him and turned to look down as he stood three stairs from the second floor. He wistfully locked his eyes at the moon.  He spoke slowly in his Brazilian Brogh, “I love the moon,  she is  the Madre. You cannot see the light of the Moon without the sun, and the sun is God.”

I nod. “Beautiful, I…” Start to create a Portuguese phase,“ I- Eu gostoso(like) this second floor dos(second).” I re-start in English, “it is good here, the moon, the Rio Doce (which means sweet river), the air through the open vista…”

Brother Gabriel, “you could live here if you would like.” He smiles, looks at me, and back the moon.

“That would take a total change in wardrobe.” I smiled as I walk to back the bench.   He laughed and I turned to laugh with him. You get to know someone on a 15 hour bus trip.    

Vista Govenador Valadares

Machine Shop at Country House de San Fransico

The view from the my house Brother Gabriel is in the middle