Jen and I led spirituality night for the volunteers this week. I told Jen I had been think a lot about charity, Amigo’s big picture and social justice. So, we decided to read to everyone The Judgement of Nations (Matthew 25: 31-46) and then discuss how it all relates. How did the reading make us feel? We ended up talking about hand-outs, charity organizations, Amigos de Jesus and how these things measure up against one another. Some felt that charity was a hindrance to bringing about social justice whereas others (myself included) said that it was a necessary stepping stone to get there.
I talked a little bit about how it’s hard for me to work at a home for children, to give all of myself to them and to then go on vacation in another city or town and be bombarded by children asking for money and food, and feeling torn about giving them them things when our own resources are limited, and then feeling guilty about not always being as giving as I know I should.
In January the seven of us went on vacation to Santa Rosa in Copan. It seemed like it was the weekend of people asking me for money and food. That comes with being a gringa(o) in central America. They see the white skin, light eyes and lighter hair and just assume you must have money. Which I guess would be true if I wasn’t volunteering this year and even so, I am probably still richer than majority Hondurans with just my stipend. Anyway, on our last day in Santa Rosa I was using some of my last lempiras to buy lunch before getting picked up. There were no seats in the fast food places left so I took my chicken outside to eat on the sidewalk with Kristin. While we were sitting there, a small boy came out of no where and he asked for some money. We told him we wouldn’t give him money and he talked to us for a couple of minutes and I asked him if he wanted cookies instead and he shook his head yes, a smile brimming on him lips. He told us his name was Jesus — he said you know just like…Jesus Christ (I was hungry and you fed me.) He told us he knew some English and practiced with us and we passed 10 minutes like that, just talking. We asked him about his family and he gave us no straight answer which was unsurprising. He told us his uncle taught him some of his english and that he used to go to school to but stopped going. He told us he had someone to share his cookies with, so I gave him my other bag and a soda to make sure he’d have enough. Just then the rest of our group came out and we introduced him to everyone. We told him we had to go unfortunately and gave him high-fives and wished him well and that was that.I remember wishing we could take him back to the Hogar with us.
When we got back to the Hogar that night I couldn’t stop thinking about Jesus and a few of the other street kids we encountered that weekend. Our boys at the Hogar are just like them, some have lived like they do and it was frustrating to know that these boys would most likely stay in the street. Why aren’t there more safe havens like Amigos? Or good parents? Or something! That thought drives me nuts every time I see kids on the street, selling goods or asking for money. So in their case I decided, I don’t feel bad about giving “hand-outs” or charity, I’d feel worse about ignoring them, but I would feel better if they were in school learning rather than on the streets and that’s why I try to make the effort to talk to the kids who ask for money and food as well.
Today I was working in the office and we were awaiting the arrival of a new child for Santa Rosa. Naturally it made me think of the boy we met there. I wondered how he was, if he was well fed, if he was still charming tourists. Then I thought about the conversation the volunteers had on Wednesday. It was funny how that day just keep popping up in my life. The car finally arrived, a little later than expected. And out popped a judge, a social worker, the driver and a 10 year-old boy. I walked outside to meet them, said “Hola, mucho gusto” to the adults and finally my eyes rested on the boy and guess who was starring back up at me? Yup, of all the kids to come from a small city they brought Jesus. My eyes started to water,not that anyone noticed and I just smiled at him. I told Abogada that I knew him from Santa Rosa but she didn’t get it what I was saying (or wasn’t listening.) So I just stood there smiling at him and I am pretty positive he had not even a small idea of who I was but he smiled back. It’s funny how things work out.
My Adventure in Honduras 