Today, I experienced a new kind of love and joy that I’ve never felt before.
My team and I were enjoying a chai tea latte and wifi at an internet cafe when three young Guatemalan local girls approached us, trying to sell bracelets. They were so small, sweet, and manipulative. “One Q! Only one Q, porfavor!” They begged us. We all ended up giving in and purchasing a handmade, little bracelet, and they thanked us and left. After a few minutes, they were back, begging us again. “Pay one more! One more! Only one Q!” We knew their mother had sent them to sell the bracelets, and we wanted to be able to love them in a different way. So we asked them what their name was and how old they were, tickled them, and played with them, right there in that internet cafe. At one point, the second oldest girl pointed at her ear and showed me that one of her earrings was missing. She reached for mine and asked in an innocent voice, “Porfavor!” I was not about to give her one of the earrings I was wearing, but my whole team felt compassion for the little girls and wanted to bless them in any way we could.
Brooke and Jacqueline had the idea to run to a market nearby and buy her a pair of earrings. Somehow, she overheard the word earring, understood it, and asked to come with us. We didn’t mind and actually thought it was an adorable idea, so we took the two older girls by the hands, and Annika gladly held onto the baby. We found their mother to ask for permission, and she thankfully agreed, while handing us two more of her children. What began as an idea to bless a little girl turned into a line of white, teenage girls leading a group of 5 Guatemalan children down the street. I’m sure it looked absolutely hilarious.
There was a ten year old named Petrona, an eight year old named Maria (the one we were originally going to buy earrings), a six year old named Lowda, a three year old named Anna, and a one and a half year old named Rosalita. It blew my mind that this mother of six (she kept her one month old with her), could just hand off her children to a bunch of random, American strangers without blinking an eye. It felt like we were literally stealing her kids, and walking away with them. What made us feel better was the pure excitement in the kid’s eyes. We had almost arrived at the market when they all started saying, “Tengo hambre. Pollo!” We realized that they had been working all day and probably hadn’t eaten much, if any all day, and decided it would be better to buy them food than a materialistic item like earrings. They knew exactly where they wanted to go and practically dragged us to a fast food chicken place called “Pollo Campero.” They were nearly jumping with excitement, and we later found out that was their first time there. Watching the girl’s joy at the smallest things like coloring pages, crayons, and the play area made our hearts swell with joy ourself. The little girls had worked like adults for eight hours and we were able to give them an hour to play, eat fried chicken, and just be little kids for once. They all stuffed their faces like they had never eaten before, including the baby. It was the most adorable thing any of us had ever experienced.
The craziest part of the whole story is not the fact that my team basically stole five kids, or the fact that we bought the stolen children dinner, but that I almost missed out on the whole experience. An hour earlier, I had decided I was too tired to stay out and wanted to go back home. No one else on my team was really ready to leave the city so I hung in there. This was all God. I just know the reason I didn’t end up getting to go home to take a nap and chill for the rest of the day was because God wanted me to bless these kiddos. My heart is so warm and so happy knowing at least five kids are going to bed with full tummies and a fun memory.
And the best part of it all is that I’m going to be here for three months. It’s only been six days. We promised the girls we would see them soon to play with them and love on them some more, and we have the ability to make that happen for the next 90 days. I know this is what being a missionary is all about, and I can not wait to experience even more of what God has in store for this country, my team, and myself.
