Maria and her family
Today Dick, Chris Mooney, Brian, Carleen and Esbin set off for Tecpan. We had been invited to a memorial service marking the fourth anniversary of the death of the husband of Maria, one of the four widows in this community.
Four years ago, Maria’s husband left for work, as he did each day, to deliver bananas with Jorge, one of the Bethel Ministries workers. As he left, his mother said, “Be careful, son, your family needs you.” Maria’s husband replied, “Don’t worry. If something happens to me, God will care for my family.” A short time later, he was killed when he was hit by a truck crossing the highway to meet Jorge.
Jorge, of course, shared this story with Chris Mooney, the director of Bethel, and they went to see what they could do to help this family. Maria was barely more than a child herself, and now had four children to care for alone, the youngest a newborn baby. She spoke hardly no Spanish (only Katchikel, a Mayan dialect) and had never been more than a few miles from her home. This visit began a long time friendship between Maria’s family and those associated with Bethel.
A sponsor as found, and Dick began bringing food into the family once a month to help out. Soon, Bethel built them a new house, on a dry, raised cement foundation (only a short time after this, an adjacent building was blown down by a storm and the new shelter kept the family safe). An attempt was made to help Maria raise pigs to become more self-sufficient. This failed, though, when feed proved to be too costly and one of the momma pigs ate her offspring (yuck!).
My first encounter with Maria was shortly after the death of her husband, when I visited her home with on of the first Guatemala mission teams from Westside. We had brought food to them, and saw their “new” house. This experience deeply touched many of the members of this team. Whenever I would come back, I did my best to visit this beautiful lady, her family, and her amazing neighbors.
About a year ago, Maria needed surgery, and we were able to help her get it at Hermano Pedro. Bethel frequently has brought teams out to visit, and Dick and I visit when we can. I really is one of our favorite spots to go, and we sometimes make a trip here when we feel like we need to be refreshed a bit. (See Aug. 11 posting) This family and their neighbors are as much a blessing to us as we ever could be to them.
Now, the youngest of the children is four years old, the two oldest are in school, and the little girl who used to run hiding under a basket when Dick would come is now one of the first to greet us. This family has become our friends, and I was honored to be included with Dick and the Mooneys in the invitation to this “culta” (prayer meeting) honoring her husband and praying for Maria, her family and their future.
We arrived a bit early (actually on time, but by Guatemalan standards, early) and I was able to visit the home of Rosa, another widow who Bethel has built a home for and been serving in this area. Rosa, who has been ill, is now living with three of her children in one room back in Chimaltenago, but her oldest daughter had come to the home in Tecpan to get “guisquil” (a type of squash popular here) to sell in the market in Tecpan.
Shortly we were called back to Maria’s the service began. We were met by the elders from Maria’s church, who led us in praise and prayer for about an hour. These eight or nine men share the responsibility for the local church, and they rotate the responsibility for preaching among them. Their prayers were beautiful and heartfelt, and I’d love to return some Sunday to worship with them.
After the prayer time we were treated to a delicious lunch of a type of stewed chicken and rice. I felt somewhat awkward, as I was the only woman eating with all the men, but the Maria insisted that I do so.
After we ate I did slip into the other building where the women were cooking and eating and visited with them for a bit. They took great pleasure in trying to teach me once again how to wear a corte, the traditional skirt worn by Mayan women. I think they are beginning to agree with me that gringas need four more hands to be able to hold up the skirt while trying to wrap a long belt around their waist and pull it tight to hold up the skirt. I still fear I will walk out of mine, and am experimenting with ways to use velcro to help secure the garment.
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