March 17th 2010 - Sometimes I Weep
Thursday, March 18, 2010 at 01:53PM And sometimes I weep uncontrollably.
Tonight was Alisha’s last night here. She has been here for several weeks and has become a beloved member of our family. The Pastoral Team has great affection for her. She is a hard worker, has a great sense of humor, compassion …
So tonight the Team thought we should take her and our current delegation to town to enjoy the carnival atmosphere of our Patron Saint festivities.
It was fun to walk around at night. I don’t get out much after dark, so it is a treat to be out and about.
We made the loop around the park: watched a bit of a ‘queen coronation’ event, looked at all the vendors and ended up at the corner restaurant because some of the delegates were wanting a local beer that happens to be in a green bottle – it is St. Patrick’s Day after all. (Side note: St. Patrick’s Day is not celebrated here).
So we sat down in a small corner restaurant and who joined us but my little friend Brian. He is 7. I met him when St. Boniface was here last January. He had found us in the ice cream store and he so enchanted us that they ended up buying him an ice cream cone. I asked him about where he lived… who he lived with etc. He said his mom was in San Salvador working and he was living with his brothers (the oldest of which is maybe 16).
After that delegation departed, and on a subsequent walk to town, Brian found me. He immediately gave me a hug and asked for a pupusa for him and his brothers. Softie that I am… I did. He is perpetually filthy dirty and either barefooted or in very cheap and falling apart sandals and extremely tired clothing.
And at this point, every time I see him, I find some food for them.
Tonight, he found us. He asked if he could sit with us. And of course, he was welcomed. I explained who he was and one of the delegates said she wanted to buy his pupusas. He was a happy little boy. She even bought him a balloon when a passing salesman came by. I just shook my head at him. He knows he is a “player.” But I know he is a ‘player’ that really is in need so I give him some slack. But did give him the mama look… like “Son… I know you are playing the gringos here… but I love you anyway.”
He is such a sweet boy. He is all of 7 years old and basically lives on the street.
And tonight – safe in my room and trying to go to sleep, I find myself weeping uncontrollable. What is to become of this young boy? I remember all the advantages MY sons had at that age: the privileges… food, clothing, school, security … the lack of worry.
So what WILL become of this boy? He does not go to school. He basically has no adult taking care of him. And I ache for him and all the children like him that have no future that we North Americans can imagine. Will he become just one of the local drunks at the age of 15? Will he find any kind of menial work? Will he live to be 20?
How is it that such sweetness can be so tragic?
Reader Comments (1)
Maybe, because of the kindness shown to him from this gringo woman, he will grow up knowing that someone DOES love him and he will remember that, and perhaps he will grow up to lead his nation. Try to hope for the best.