**The names of the children in this story have been changed for purposes of confidentiality.

Seven-year-old Jamie is stealing the show from the cows at the Penn State Dairy Barn. Jamie peeks into stall after stall, mooing at motionless Holsteins who blow puffs of frosty air from their gaping, dripping nostrils.

Most of the animals are only startled out of their perpetual naps by Jamie's sound effects, but one seems to catch on to the boy's wishes. The cow ambles toward Jamie's tiny form. Jamie gasps in excited disbelief. Another cow follows.

"He's comin' over, too!" Jamie squeals, attracting the attention of the other barn visitors. Adults and children alike on the Big Brother Big Sister barn tour activity join Jamie in a chorus of moos, stirring up the livestock and beckoning more to come visit.

"Now everyone likes me!"

Jamie's name, age, sex and home location are neatly recorded on a sheet of paper taped to a manila folder, which sits on the desk of Kristen Hazlett, counselor and case manager for the Big Brother Big Sister Program of Centre County. The sheet of paper is Hazlett's waiting list for youth on her caseload who have not yet been placed with volunteer Big Brothers or Big Sisters ("Bigs," as they're commonly called). The children are referred to the Centre County Youth Service Bureau, home to five mentoring programs, including Big Brother Big Sister, by a parent or an adult at school.

About 80 percent of referrals live in single-parent families, and there are always many children on the waiting list, said Big Brother Big Sister intern Reuben Stugart. Hazlett's particular caseload consists of 80 to 90 children, and each one starts out on this very list.

Hazlett shares an office with Megan Evans, another counselor and case manager. When a child is on the waiting list, (where most stay for months or even more than a year) the case managers try to take him or her on group activities, said Evans. Both Hazlett and Evans have taken Jamie to such activities and Evans was his temporary Big for the barn tour.

Smiling Bigs and Littles cover the bulletin board above Evans' desk, in photographs carefully cut out around people's forms. Their compilation makes a mountain range of faces amongst postcards and reminders taped and thumbtacked above the desk. The light on Evans' phone patiently flashes, alerting her to new voicemails.

"A lot of what we do is phone calls," Evans said of her job as a case manager. However, a more interactive part of her job is arranging the first meeting of newly paired Bigs and Littles after the volunteer has been through the application process, screening interview, and placement decision. Once a new computer program is in place in the office, (which will increase productivity, as all of the paperwork is currently done by hand) she is looking forward to having more time for interactions with children.

Christin Mehrtens (junior-administration of justice) has these interactions every week. One Saturday afternoon, Mehrtens and her Little, Allison, are only a few pins apart in a game of bowling. Mehrtens bowls in perfect form and she struts back to her seat after bowling a strike. Allison thinks it's hilarious.

The 12-year-old's bowling form sharply contrasts that of her Big — watching Allison's ball roll down the lane, Mehrtens jokes "that's more like pinball, don't ya think?" But Allison doesn't hear her. She's too busy clapping in anticipation as her ball meanders down the lane at sharp angles between the bumpers.

"Hey, Allison!" Mehrtens calls to her from under the pink hue of the neon Snack Bar and Northland Bowl signs, "our pizza is ready!"

It seems you can't go wrong with children when food is involved.

"Can I have a soda?" seven-year-old Kelly asks her Big, Jill Matusky (sophomore-psychology) at Hecla Park Skating Center near Bellefonte.

"Let's skate a little longer, OK?" Matusky suggests. Kelly wrinkles her nose and purses her lips in response, a common frustrated facial exchange between the two, an expression never meant seriously. Matusky, gliding skillfully along, dressed casually in a Loyola sweatshirt and jeans, makes the face back. Kelly giggles, nearly losing her balance on the orange-wheeled rental roller skates. She regains her balance and continues to roll ever so slowly to the wall. Twenty minutes into the skating session, Kelly has made a lot of progress, but upon first stepping into the skates, Kelly was more than a little scared. Her fingers white with grip around Matusky's hand, Kelly watched her Big's feet intently to learn the technique. The trust she has in Matusky is noticeable, even to the outsider.

As the wobbling perimeter of adult skaters would probably agree, sometimes, physical activities come easier to children.

"Come on!" Eleven-year-old Jake calls to his Big Brother Ben Dambman (junior-management & international business) from a few yards ahead at the Penn State Ice Pavilion. Dambman smiles and looks fixedly at his skates. Jake takes his Big's hand to pull him along, and Dambman playfully grabs Jake's Harley Davidson jacket in response. It's as if the two are actual brothers as they squabble on the ice, nearly falling on many occasions.

"I miss having a little brother," Dambman says. He became interested in the Big Brother Big Sister program after working as a camp counselor for many summers. Lately he has noticed that his relationship with Jake is developing to the point of true friendship. If Dambman is late to make his weekly phone call to Jake, he can be sure to hear about it from the11-year-old.

While outings such as bowling and skating are always a treat for a child, Big Brother Big Sister encourages Bigs to find activities that carry little or no cost. Spending money on Littles strays away from the meaning of the relationship says program director Denise McCann, from her office just across from those of Hazlett and Evans.

"It's really about commitment and consistency," McCann says.

In a panel discussion of long-term Bigs that took place during the program's volunteer training session in February, Kurt Gehlert, Big Brother to Carl for five and a half years, offered advice to newer Bigs.

"I used to spend a lot of money on material things," Gehlert said, but he learned what really mattered to his Little (now 12 years old), when Carl ran into his room one day and produced a box of about 40 post cards that Gehlert had sent him from vacations over the years. That's when Gehlert saw the importance of simplicity in his gestures to Carl. "Expensive things get destroyed," Gehlert said, "but the postcards were really significant."

Male volunteers only make up about 40 percent of Bigs, but there are twice as many male youth on the waiting list than female youth. The current volume of male volunteers for Big Brother Big Sister is "not nearly enough to meet the demands of all the boys on our waiting lists," Hazlett said.

The college town setting for the Centre County branch of Big Brother Big Sister significantly impacts Big/Little relationships. Having a Big who is in college is "really great for youth," Thompson says, because many of them don't have aspirations to go to college, and education past high school may not be an expectation in their family. College student Bigs have the opportunity to "plant a seed in the Little's mind that they can go to college," Thompson explains.

As Jamie waits to be matched with a Big Brother, he speaks excitedly of the group activities he's attended with the program. The first grader looks forward to having a Big Brother so "he can take me places," Jamie says, "baseball, swimming, I love swimming." He pauses to give more careful consideration to future plans with a Big Brother. "I really don't care where I go," Jamie says, "I just want to have fun."

**Jamie was placed with a Big Brother earlier this month. There are still approximately 50-60 children on the waiting list.