12 MARCH 2024 K atia and I met only once, but even after all these years, I have not been able to erase her from my mind, no matter how hard I try. However, I freely admit that I never try very hard because I want her to remain there, a delightful memory of a time gone by. She is with me today, just as she was when we had our only encounter at an orphanage in Agua Prieta, Sonora, directly across the Mexican border south of Douglas. She was one of several youngsters living in cluttered rooms on dirt floors. They came from broken homes and from families who lived in cardboard boxes held together with chicken wire. Many of them weren’t true orphans, not in the literal sense. Some were abandoned by adults who couldn’t care for them or simply didn’t want them. Others were placed there by welfare agencies due to abuse at home. Or they were taken off the streets where they wandered, selling chewing gum and cheap trinkets to tourists. Katia was one of them, a tiny victim of circumstance, a little girl in a faded sweatshirt who peered around a corner and cast her magic upon me. Before I had a chance to avoid any relationship, she looked up at me, and I was her captive, defenseless against huge brown eyes and a bashful smile. She pointed to her name written in a childish scrawl on the front of her shirt and whispered, “Katia.” I could offer her nothing in return but my condescending smile, and that inability to express myself in such an unpretentious manner as hers left me wallowing in a great emptiness. Then solemnly, softly, she walked away, but her presence was already forever imprinted on some undetermined locale where I store major occurrences of a pleasant nature. A short time later, she crept back into the room where we adult members of an inspection team had gathered to make our comments. She tugged at my sleeve to get my attention, then placed her tiny hand into mine and led us away from the others. Attached in that fashion, we walked a short distance to a corner of the room where she seated herself on the dirt floor. She patted the ground and motioned that I should sit beside her. With great concentration, she used a forefinger and sketched her name into the bare earth. When she finished, she waved her tiny hand across her work and said with great pride, “Katia.” Aware that she wanted to show me something of great importance, I sat cross-legged while she knelt on the dirt floor of the orphanage and slowly unrolled a well-used red kerchief. One by one, she removed her treasures – a collection of empty Tootsie Roll wrappers – and carefully placed them on the ground before us, gently smoothing each before bringing out another. She directed my glance toward the wrappers and gestured as if to say, “It’s all right. You may touch them.” So I picked them up, one by one, carefully examined each, then handed them back to her. When every wrapper had been carefully inspected and placed back into their proper order, she returned them to the secrecy of the old bandanna and tied the ends of the kerchief together. Then she ran her hands across the cloth’s surface and wistfully held it up to me for my final approval. For most of the morning, Katia hung around, staying in the background while the adults looked at, poked, and talked about what the orphanage needed before agreeing that money and volunteer labor were paramount to the task. Occasionally, she’d catch my eyes to let me know she was still there, waiting to resume our friendship. Then she’d disappear around a corner, but soon she’d be standing in a doorway or coyly peeking through a dusty window, never in the way but always there. At lunchtime, she walked resolutely to my side, took my hand, and led the way to a rough wooden table where the staff had laid out sandwiches and an unfamiliar liquid. We were friends now, even though I had no choice in the matter. She sat close to me, and when I went to take my first bite, she gently touched my arm so I would look down at her. Then she bowed her head and clasped her hands together, indicating that we should pray first. And so we did. She whispered her pre-meal blessing in Spanish, and I mumbled mine in English. We ate then, and Katia made certain that my napkin was folded just right and that my glass was always filled with what turned out to be a very weak lemonade. When the meal ended, she removed my plate and cup, took them to what served as a kitchen, and returned to take her seat close to mine again. We talked for a while, neither of us quite understanding what the other was saying, but both perfectly understood what the other meant. When my time at the orphanage was over, she clutched my hand and walked me to the car that would take me back to Arizona and out of her life forever. I tried not to look back, but it was futile, so I turned and waved and made a silent vow to come back someday. She smiled a brave smile; I returned it. But we could not hide the sadness that fell upon us because we knew we would never see each other again. When I asked about her later, another team member said she had been adopted by a couple from Pennsylvania. Protocol demanded that I make no effort to contact her. Sometimes, it’s the way things are meant to be. My brief career as Katia’s friend A former Valley newspaperman who now writes about his travels across Arizona, the U.S. and the globe. BY SAM LOWE Katia was a young orphan that made a big impression on Sam during his time volunteering in Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico. Her presence was already forever imprinted on some undetermined locale where I store major occurrences of a pleasant nature.

13 MARCH 2024 By Mallory Gleich Middle schoolers from St. Theresa Catholic and Christ Lutheran Schools went head to head in the softball State Championships earlier this year. The Broncos stayed the course, winning their third championship in a row. Adding to their list of accomplishments was the fact that the team – which plays from November to January – had an undefeated 16-game streak to take them to the final competition. “St. Theresa went from never winning a softball championship to winning three in a row,” Coach Shawn Brown said. “This one felt even more amazing since our team lost four starters from last year’s team, who are now all playing on their high school softball teams – and two of them are on varsity squads.” There are nine players on the team, comprised of sixth to eighth graders. One thing they all had in common, according to Coach Brown? Resilience. “This team did not know how to lose!” he said. “I’ve been playing softball for seven years now, and my favorite part of winning the championship is winning it with all my friends and seeing all our hard work pay off,” eighth-grader Meredith Schrager said. “I am glad I’m leaving St. Theresa knowing we won three championships in a row!” The championship took place at St. Simon Jude, where St. Theresa beat CLS for a second straight year in the championship game. Pitchers Meredith Schrager and Kennedy Hornaday combined for the win, with Mila Meinhausen behind the plate catching. Second baseman Ainsely Kopp and first baseman Lexi Brown both had in-the-park home runs that put the game out of reach. “My favorite part about winning the championship was bringing home a trophy for my school for the third year in a row,” eighth-grader Mila Meinhausen said. “Finishing my last season of softball with my favorite school was amazing.” “The team was ecstatic. This championship was a culmination of an amazing and hard-fought season,” Coach Brown said. “Our team scored 168 runs over the 16 games played with two players, Catherine Clancy and Lexi Brown, ending the season with batting averages over .800.” With a motto of “never give up and believe in yourself and your team,” Coach Brown is ready to start training next year’s team, hoping to continue the streak. “We are losing four starters again to high school, so the team will need to reboot again to win our fourth consecutive title in 2025, but we’re ready for it!” Brown said. St. Theresa’s softball season three-peat St. Theresa’s softball team. PHOTO COURTESY OF SHAWN BROWN MARCH 1 FIELD OF DREAMS MARCH 8 BARBIE MARCH 15 HAPPY GILMORE MARCH 22 BREAKFAST CLUB MARCH 29 MS. CONGENIALITY DETAILS Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, Life Time, 60+ specialty shops and restaurants. Now Open Ambrogio15, Gorjana, Anthropologie PRESENTED BY EVERY FRIDAY IN MARCH 7PM CENTER LAWN GET READY for drama MOVIES IN THE PARK BIL-24112 A1 Movies In The Park Print Ads.indd 1 2/2/24 12:58 PM