I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been terrible at updating with my blog since I moved to Honduras. I started with ambition, determined to post once a week...then life took over. I’ve been caught up in learning how to be a teacher, learning how to live in a foreign country and learning how to become a real adult. I continually reminded myself to post an update, but nothing compelled me to write. Until tonight.
As I was sitting in the middle of the food court enjoying my guilty pleasure (spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy’s-lettuce only please), I was reminded of why I came to this country. Three sets of brown eyes stared at me and the oldest of the group began asking me for food and money. At first, I was taken by surprise. I’m used to seeing people beg on street corners or come up to the car window and ask for money. It’s almost the norm now for me to watch little boys rapidly clean the windshields of cars in hopes of earning some spare change. However, when I’m in the mall, escaping my reality, I never expect to encounter the face of poverty. Sometimes though, God uses the most unexpected circumstances to get our attention.
After listening to the oldest of the group rapidly ask me to help him and his two siblings, I began asking him questions. I found out his name is Gerson and he is ten years old. He had spent the entire day after school walking the streets and begging with his five year old brother Christian and his three year old sister Marisol. His mom was at home and the three of them had to find a way to get back to her. He told me, “If we don’t get enough money to get home, we’ll sleep on the streets tonight.”
After asking a few more basic questions, I knew I didn’t want to just give the kids money and let them leave--I wanted to hear their story. Between feeding spoonfuls of rice to his baby sister, who he fondly referred to as his princess, Gerson began opening up to me about his life. Every day after school he travels to the mall with his siblings and they sell packets of grape flavored Trident gum to the people walking the streets. He told me I could buy two packs for five lempira--about .25 cents. He is expected to bring home at least 50 lempira ($2.65) to his alcoholic mother, or else she beats him. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. Two months ago I came home and someone had robbed the money I had earned. I didn’t have anything to give my mother, so she cut me with a knife.” He then proceeded to roll up his pant leg and show me two scars that were left, forever reminding him of his mothers abuse. When I asked him about his father, he told me that he was an alcoholic and was assaulted two years ago.
After finishing the meal and saving a plate full of food for his two older brothers who were waiting in the house, he told me that they had to leave since it was getting dark. In order to get home the three of them had to take taxis and buses--alone. I wanted to walk them to their bus, but he explained that it was in a dangerous area full of drugs and thieves and that I would not be safe there. He looked at me and said, “I will come back here to see you if you tell me a time. I will be waiting here for you at this table.”
It’s moments like these that make me stop and realize that the problems I’m facing each day are nothing compared to what thousands of kids just like Gerson face every day. Watching the three of them walk away and knowing that I had done all that I could do in that moment was the hardest part. As the three year old “princess” turned around and grinned at me with her dirt stained face, I knew all that was left to do was pray they would make it safely home.
As heartbreaking as it was, I was grateful for that experience. It reminded me of the harsh reality that so many people in this city are dealing with. It encouraged me to pray diligently for them and to not be so focused on the problems I feel I’m facing in my own life. It also reminded me not to become numb to my surroundings. So often kids like Gerson get overlooked or forgotten. As they beg on the streets trying to survive, people toss them a couple lempira just to make them go away. However, their situation is not something that can just “go away.” What they really need is love. Join me in praying for these kids--for their situations as well as revelation on how I can be effective in their lives.
As I was sitting in the middle of the food court enjoying my guilty pleasure (spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy’s-lettuce only please), I was reminded of why I came to this country. Three sets of brown eyes stared at me and the oldest of the group began asking me for food and money. At first, I was taken by surprise. I’m used to seeing people beg on street corners or come up to the car window and ask for money. It’s almost the norm now for me to watch little boys rapidly clean the windshields of cars in hopes of earning some spare change. However, when I’m in the mall, escaping my reality, I never expect to encounter the face of poverty. Sometimes though, God uses the most unexpected circumstances to get our attention.
After listening to the oldest of the group rapidly ask me to help him and his two siblings, I began asking him questions. I found out his name is Gerson and he is ten years old. He had spent the entire day after school walking the streets and begging with his five year old brother Christian and his three year old sister Marisol. His mom was at home and the three of them had to find a way to get back to her. He told me, “If we don’t get enough money to get home, we’ll sleep on the streets tonight.”
After asking a few more basic questions, I knew I didn’t want to just give the kids money and let them leave--I wanted to hear their story. Between feeding spoonfuls of rice to his baby sister, who he fondly referred to as his princess, Gerson began opening up to me about his life. Every day after school he travels to the mall with his siblings and they sell packets of grape flavored Trident gum to the people walking the streets. He told me I could buy two packs for five lempira--about .25 cents. He is expected to bring home at least 50 lempira ($2.65) to his alcoholic mother, or else she beats him. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. Two months ago I came home and someone had robbed the money I had earned. I didn’t have anything to give my mother, so she cut me with a knife.” He then proceeded to roll up his pant leg and show me two scars that were left, forever reminding him of his mothers abuse. When I asked him about his father, he told me that he was an alcoholic and was assaulted two years ago.
After finishing the meal and saving a plate full of food for his two older brothers who were waiting in the house, he told me that they had to leave since it was getting dark. In order to get home the three of them had to take taxis and buses--alone. I wanted to walk them to their bus, but he explained that it was in a dangerous area full of drugs and thieves and that I would not be safe there. He looked at me and said, “I will come back here to see you if you tell me a time. I will be waiting here for you at this table.”
It’s moments like these that make me stop and realize that the problems I’m facing each day are nothing compared to what thousands of kids just like Gerson face every day. Watching the three of them walk away and knowing that I had done all that I could do in that moment was the hardest part. As the three year old “princess” turned around and grinned at me with her dirt stained face, I knew all that was left to do was pray they would make it safely home.
As heartbreaking as it was, I was grateful for that experience. It reminded me of the harsh reality that so many people in this city are dealing with. It encouraged me to pray diligently for them and to not be so focused on the problems I feel I’m facing in my own life. It also reminded me not to become numb to my surroundings. So often kids like Gerson get overlooked or forgotten. As they beg on the streets trying to survive, people toss them a couple lempira just to make them go away. However, their situation is not something that can just “go away.” What they really need is love. Join me in praying for these kids--for their situations as well as revelation on how I can be effective in their lives.
