I left Antigua early this morning to take the bus up to Chimaltenango where I was meeting Dick, the boys, and Liz, a volunteer down to help with camp. After a quick breakfast at Camperos, we headed to the Bethel shop to pack food bags we would be taking to six families living outside of Tecpan.
This area is one of the most beautiful in Guatemala, and if I were to move to a village area, I think this one would be it. (Dick reminds me, though, the people in this area are still not too fond of us gringos, but I do love the area and the people I know there. The problem for me is, I often forget that I’m a gringo.)
When we arrived, we discovered that Maria Son was not at home, but was a few miles away at her parents. Maria was Bethel’s first contact in this aldea, and this young widow with four children is one of my favorite Guatemalan women. We visited for a while with Maria’s sister, Josefina, and her family, though.
Gloria spends hours every day weaving “huipils,” the blouses worn by Mayan women, and often purchased by tourists. She will spend a month working on one blouse, and will learn less than $100 for the finished product. This money goes to help feed her parents and her five brothers and sisters.
Adelina, the youngest daughter in the family, just graduated from sixth grade and will be beginning “Basico” (jr. high) through the kindness of a sponsor. If you are at all interesting in sponsoring a child like Adelina for the upcoming school year, which begins in January, please email me for information.
Our next stop was Samuel’s family. Samuel’s mom is yet another widow with five children. Not that long ago, Samu
Our last stop was at the home of Maria José. She is an extremely frail widow with eight children who live in a two room adobe house. We were invited in today, and were astounded by the poverty in which they live. One room is a kitchen of sorts, with no more than a fire pit and some crude shelves. The other room had a single bed. We asked where the children sleep, and were told on the bumpy dirt floor—without blankets.
This time of year it gets cold at night, and both Dick and I felt our hearts break at the thought of these children sleeping huddled together to keep warm on a floor so uneven I had a hard time walking on it. And this woman has never asked us for anything. She has only recently begun receiving food assistance after her family was discovered almost by accident.
I have a few donated quilts left, and between them and the blankets the camp volunteers graciously left, these children will at least have warm covers this Christmas.
As we were getting ready to leave, Wilmer, one of Maria Son’s sons ran up to us from the field where he had been working, excited that his mother had come home to see us. So once again we were trekking up the steep path for a visit.
When we got there, Maria brought out a children’s huipil she had been saving for me. She’d thought I had a granddaughter and that I might like it for her. Unfortunately, no granddaughters, but the huipil was so beautiful I could not turn it down. It will be a beautiful wall hanging, and I might even get it framed. The only problem was that when I went to pay Maria for it, she only wanted to accept a third of what the weaving was worth. It took a while talking to her about the fact that while I appreciated her friendship, it would not feed her children. Finally she accepted a bit more, but still gave it to me for far less than she could have sold it in the markets.
When it was time to go, the crowd of children and adults following us had grown shockingly. Dick would have to turn the car around to get out from where we had parked, and we were not quite sure how to keep all the kids safe as he did so. I think Dick wanted to strangle me when I suggested he let all the kids ride in the truck as he turned around, but it would keep them out from behind the back wheels. Dick reluctantly agree, and we discovered you could easily (?) fit more than 20 Guatemalan children into a Land Cruiser.
I know I’ve written a lot about this one trip, but this area is very dear to my heart, and each family here has a wonderful story to tell. At times people challenge me as to why I am Guatemala while there is so much need in the US. These stories explain why. . .not just the poverty I see here, but what I don’t find here. I seldom see hopelessness, entitlement, anger, or any of the other things I have been taught are the side-effects of poverty. Each visit I learn more from my friends living here about living life to the full.
These families have a joy that only comes from their firm faith in Jesus, and their strong sense of community. While we took food to six families, there are probably sixty more who are in just as much need who we pass on the way into the aldea. There is no jealousy or resentment shown by those who are also in need. They often tell us of needs of other families in the area, but seldom their own.
They welcome us as long lost friends, and it fills my heart to bursting when children whose names I cannot even remember come running up to my shouting, “Paty, you’ve come back.”
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