6.29.2011

globos y sandia

we are walking down a dusty dirt road in the colonia of genero estrada. it's a slum on the furthest outskirts of mazatlan on the edge of the "jungle". it's 5 in the evening but the sun is blazing. i feel something crawling down my leg and attempt to swat away what i think is a bug. turns out it's just a stream of sweat. 
we showed up at the feeding center to help serve dinner but none of the children have arrived yet. so armed with pockets full of globos (balloons), we head out into the neighborhood. the roads are pretty deserted except for the piles of garbage and the occasional roaming dog. where are the kids?  
we turn a corner and see a little girl wandering towards her home - a shack made of scrap metal that's about the size of my bedroom. she makes eye contact with us and starts running faster towards her mom on the front steps. we must be a strange looking bunch to her. we walk up to the home and say hello and pull out our balloons and start to make balloon animals - or try too. 
pretty soon a kid from next door comes over and then after a few minutes we're surrounded by a huge group of the neighborhood kids requesting sombreros and perritos (hats and dogs), which is fortunate because that's about the extent of our balloon shaping talents. more and more kids appear from seemingly no where. we're all laughing and and using our little bit of spanish to learn names and ages. in these moments i'm glad that love is universal and thankful for the depth that a smile can communicate. 
i feel a tug on my shirt and turn to face a little boy with a black eye and a straight face. 
"yo tambien?" (me too?) he says.
i kneel down to his level and look at his sweet face. his eyes carry an emotion i can't quite place. anger? maybe fear...or sadness? his shoulders are tense and he stands with his hands in fists.
"sí me amor, cómo te llamas?" i smile at him.
"pablito...."  
"cuantos años tienes?" 
"cino" he is still straight faced. 
"qué quieres?"
"un perrito...?"
i make my best attempt at constructing him a little blue dog and hand it to him.
"un perrito por pablito!" 
he smiles at me.


we tell all the kids that it's time for dinner and start walking back towards the feeding center in a parade of laughter and balloon animals. we serve juice and rice with stew and a surprise that we brought - sandía (watermelon). the kids are ecstatic because although they are fed well here at the feeding center, they very rarely get fruit. i walk over to pablito and offer him some, "tu quieres?". he smiles. big. 


after cleaning up dinner we all head outside for some fútbol and coloring. the sun is setting and there's a nice breeze. i sit on the stairs and attempt conversation with the woman who runs the feeding center in my very broken spanish. as we watch the kids laugh and play, a joy settles on my heart. pablito is laughing now, running around with the other boys. his body language is relaxed and his eyes are smiling. i thank God for this sweet time here and for these precious children. a chance for them to escape the burdens placed on them at such a young age, if only for a few hours. 


i don't know pablito's story. or the stories of most of the children here. 
i do know that these are the faces of poverty and injustice in our world. and i do know that the things they face in their young age are in no way fair. but i also know that God keeps his promises and that He sees these children. He has a plan for them. 


I know that the Lord secures justice for the poor 
   and upholds the cause of the needy.  
                                                 Psalm 140:12


The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me,
      for the Lord has anointed me
      to bring good news to the poor.
   He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted
      and to proclaim that captives will be released
      and prisoners will be freed.
 He has sent me to tell those who mourn
      that the time of the Lord’s favor has come,
      and with it, the day of God’s anger against their enemies.
 To all who mourn in Israel,
      he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
   a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
      festive praise instead of despair.
   In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
      that the Lord has planted for his own glory.
 They will rebuild the ancient ruins,
      repairing cities destroyed long ago.
   They will revive them,
      though they have been deserted for many generations.   Isaiah 61:1-4

the end of that promise is my favorite part. "they will be like great oaks" and "rebuild ancient ruins." God's heart is redemption and restoration. His plan is revival. 


maybe sometimes that revival can begin with some balloons and a watermelon. 



1 comment:

abbs89 said...

beautiful. i love you.