Following a late Monday afternoon session and very little turnover time, I hopped on a quick Tuesday flight to Lisbon, Portugal for the next stop on this European run of sessions. I was pretty stoked for this one, albeit a bit anxious since it would likely be run mostly in Portuguese, and I hadn’t spoken any Portuguese for a program since a 2019 session in Mozambique. Not to fear though, I had our curriculum, translated over from Spanish to Portuguese, and attempted to spend the better part of the two-hour flight hammering those phrases back into my mind.

Anxiety was likely to be replaced by excitement, anyway – as much like our session in Spain, this one in Portugal was also lined up with a past beneficiary. This story remains one of my favorite ones in Around The Worlds’ history as well.

I’ll keep it short, but basically, in 2018, a woman from a neighboring town caught wind of a ball collection drive we were doing ahead of some sessions in El Salvador and elsewhere. Sadly, her father-in-law had recently passed away, but her family found the process of collecting soccer balls in his name to be incredibly therapeutic and a way to help process loss both easier and more so, together.

“Hey Stephen, so we managed to collect about 50 soccer balls – most of them brand new,” she had told me.

I was over the moon. As I picked them up, she mentioned how her father-in-law hailed from Portugal, a place where while growing up he always dreamed of one day owning his own soccer ball.

“Listen, if it would mean anything at all, I’d love to take some of these collected soccer balls to a beneficiary in Portugal. That is, if I have your permission to do so,” I told her, knowing it really was the smallest thing I could do to honor a great man and an even greater legacy.

Moved to tears by the gesture, she nodded her head and long story short, the footballs made their way into the hands of some very special children from a Casa do Crianças just outside Lisbon, in Tires. Five years down the road, I was able to link up with that same organization for a Friday night session.

The 5 p.m. start time had me on edge, but the sun still managed to shine brightly on our playing grid as the kids excitedly deposited the new footballs into the back of the pop-up goals we had on property. With yet another futsal practice scheduled for that night, many of them were dressed to the nines in their full uniforms, adding to the excitement of the program. After five years, so much had changed, yet so much had stayed the same. My new contact, Vera, took me aside to reminisce. “I think last time you were here we only had boys,” she said, excited to pass along an update that there were now girls residing on property – even outnumbering the boys if you could believe that.

We took a brief little tour through the house, as I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Casa do Crianças’ social worker pointed at an old black & white photo, showing a round corner room on the first floor.

“See, now that room has a second part on the second floor,” she shared.

“Ah yes, the tv room,” I said with a smile, pleased that my memory had served me well, as she smiled back in approval.

“And that,” she said, pointing at a door reading “sala dos segredos” covered with stars and butterflies, “is our magic room.”

She unlocked it, symbolically more than anything, sharing how it was important for the kids to feel safe sharing things and for them to know their secrets were kept under lock & key, as this was the room where they would hold therapy sessions. These children have been through a lot, with many of them growing up without parents at all, while others are children of currently incarcerated mothers & fathers.

Just as it was years ago, there was a wide range of kids participating in this program, though we had a small intimate group of barely 10. A family of sisters hailing from Brazil were in the mix. As were a group of siblings from here in Portugal. A young boy, all of three years old, had just arrived from Cape Verde earlier that day, but was already settling in well with the older girls looking after him.

We broke into a quick listening drill run in a messy mix of Spanish & Portuguese. Spanish spoken with a Portuguese accent, more than anything. The kids were understanding & forgiving thankfully, as my day’s captain – one of the girls from Brazil, helped run our listening exercise. Then, we broke into relay race lines before a quick transition into our version of head it, catch it “mao ou cabeca”.

This was a crowd favorite and sitting back, I fondly admired the kids’ laughter & joy throughout it. Whether they had just won a prize or gotten ever so close, they put forth all their effort and cheered each other on from round to round. After that one wrapped up, I still wanted to grab some more prizewinners, so I dropped back into the net and set up a line for penalty kicks. The rules were simple and carnival-esque, score a goal on me – win a prize.

Each kid stepped forward, aiming their shots in the top and bottom corners, but I was equal to all of them. Suddenly, an older boy soared a ball past my outstretched arm and into the top right drawer.

“That’s a prize right there!” I yelled out.

Eventually, we’d grab two more before splitting up into two even teams for a little scrimmage. The scrimmage had its share of competition, as both sides were awarded penalty kicks during it – making me thankful we had just run a drill on those prior to it. Funny when it works out like that huh? Time dwindling after our late start, I gathered the kids up to teach them our freestyle trick – the neck stall. They were just as thrilled about this one, as their feelings of accomplishment & happiness painted right across their faces.

I closed things up with a tweet of my whistle, this time bearing even more post-program gifts than before, as each kid was to receive a new Puma ball, a drawstring bag of their choice, and a bracelet. Plenty of bracelets left over and no more European programs on the docket, each staff member could be seen with one tied around their wrists as well.

As I headed out the front gate where our Uber was waiting, I bid Vera adieu with a double cheek kiss and a smile, for just beyond her, the kids could be seen hands-full of accessories – excitedly stuffing their new footballs into their new bags, futsal gear on & in hand, heading out to play even more football after an hour-long session.

“You’re always welcome here whenever you’d like to come back,” Vera said, “and thank you… thank you for coming back.”