William and his bag of corn

It was Sunday afternoon, which of course means swimming with someone, somewhere. This past week Lis and I went to swim with children of a dear family of mine, Astrid, David, Jessy and William. As we are walking to their house, we pass William. “Where are you going? Hurry! Let’s go swim!” I say. His face lights up, he says he has to run an errand but will be right there. We continue walking and William starts to run the opposite direction to get what he needed. We arrive at the kids house, where Jessy is taking care of the kids by herself. Astrid is full of giggles and little David can’t stop smiling. At first he was a bit shy but as soon as we got to the river he starts playing crocodile and jumping right in. We spend time with the kids waiting for William thinking he is going to arrive any second. He never came. We head back to drop the kids off. William wasn’t at the house. Lis and I say goodbye to the kids and go on our way. Just a few houses down we run into William. His is crouched over in the middle of corn kernels that had spilled on the ground. His bag ripped and everything fell onto the dirt road. “How long have you been here?” I asked. “About an hour.” There was William, all my himself, picking up every last kernel that had fallen. Lis and I begin to help. Soon neighborhood kids come out and help us as well. William didn’t say a word. Not a single complaint. He had been there, the whole time we were swimming, picking up the fallen kernels. He is ten. A very humble ten year old. He could have been swimming with us, but instead he knew what he had to do. He didn’t stop until the last kernel was picked up. There Lis and I were helping him and our legs were hurting from bending over. He had been there the entire time and not a single word or complaint came from his mouth. My heart ached. I knew how bad he wanted to go swimming. We finished picking it all up and he finally spoke with a smile on his face… “Gracias” 

They can't go back...

This past Monday I was able to visit the kids and drop off monthly support in Jutiapa. I arrived to their house and couldn’t wipe the smile off my face (not that I wanted too!). They were all on the front porch, eating chicken feet and rice. Their hair was combed, they had on new hand-made skirts by the Aunt, and were happy to see me. They looked different.  I wasn’t sure what it was. I wouldn’t find out until later.

“They have very bad behaviors” the Aunt tells me. “Im working hard to pray and change them”. She pulls me aside to ask if I knew about any child abuse. I explained that I knew about a year ago, they were in a bad situation with the neighbor. I knew they were abused while living with her and during this time both parents abandoned the kids. I was sure this had a large impact on them. Well it did. In fact, there was more abuse than I even knew of. She began telling me awful things. Stories I can’t write in this blog. My eyes teared up.  My heart hurt. I didn’t know.

“They can’t go back, Catalina” She continues. The situation was much worse than either her or I expected. I asked how she knew these things. She tells me every night she sits down and talks with the kids. Just to get a better idea of where they are coming from and why they behave the way they do. They sing songs and talk about the day. She loves them. She doesn’t just provide a roof and food on the table. She loves them. They needed this love. This unconditional love. 

They go to church. They have a network of supporters who are praying for the children. Neighbors give their unwanted clothes and shoes. Local mini stores lend food to the Aunt until she is able to pay for it. She knows God will provide. Her husband is not working. She sews for her neighbors. This is their only income. I was able to drop off some support for the kids but I still hope to find a few more sponsors.

…

I spoke with Danilo (the kids dad). I ran into him in the neighborhood the other day. He was sitting on a log. We began to talk a bit, he asked how his kids were and soon a tear ran down his face. He began to tell me he was hurting. He had no one now. Fanny (his wife) left to be with another man and his kids were gone. He said “Catalina, I go to bed at 9 and just cry. I feel like I have no reason to live. Sometimes I want to kill myself. I don’t know why I’m telling you this but I trust you.” Tears are running down his face. He tells me he wants to work. But he can’t read or write. He hasn’t passed the 6^th grade. We sit in quiet.

A few days later he comes to my house. Good news he says. I am learning to read and write. I want to pass school so I can work and provide for my children. “Where are you going?” I ask because he looks dressed up. “Church, I have been going now.” I am happy. I have been praying for this. Praise God. Bless his heart.

Please keep Danilo and his children in your prayers. Please prayerfully consider being a huge blessing to this family by becoming a monthly sponsor. 

Please log onto www.findinghopehonduras.org for more information on sponsors