It’s noon on a rainy Wednesday.
A 14-year-old boy is in school, sitting at his desk. Barely able to pay attention to the teacher, he’s fighting thoughts that swarm around inside his head like a pair of nagging flies.
“I hope I can see Gina today, she is so fine.”
“I can’t wait to hang out with the boys at lunch.”
“I wonder what’s for lunch today.”
These are thoughts shared commonly among many 14-year-old boys around the world.
But not for Jaime.
Jaime (pronounced Hi-May), is a 14-year-old boy living at the city dump in Puerto Barrios.
On this rainy Wednesday afternoon, instead of sitting at a school desk, Jamie is standing in piles upon piles of trash. Vultures swarm in the stifling air over his head as he rushes to be one of the firsts to snag bags of garbage that have just been dropped off.
This is everyday life for Jaime and his family.
He is the oldest of four boys. His younger brothers Tito (10), Emerson (4), Mariel (1) and mom Antonia all look up to him as the “head of the household” since his father went to heaven.
I spent four hours with Jaime on this wet afternoon sorting through trash for recyclables to be bagged and weighed. This is how he makes money to feed his family.
He didn’t say very much and hardly looked at me – only to point and give direction. He watched when I placed plastic bottles in wrong piles and kindly went behind me to fix my mistakes.
Wanting to build a relationship with him, I used my beginners Spanish to tell him my name. He showed no delight in meeting me, just slight annoyance for keeping him from his work.
So we carried on working and when I was unsure of where something went I called to him with the dirty object in hand, “Jaime! Donde?” And again he would point to the correct pile.
After many placement errors, I eventually got the hang of it and soon became Jaime’s little helper. He handed me things and pointed to where they should go until I decided – no more pointing!
My heart broke for this young man and making him smile became my personal mission for the day. I asked a friend how to say, “Call me” and every time Jaime used pointing as a tool for instruction, I said, “Jaime! Llama me, Jessica.”
We continued working, he continued pointing and I continued telling him to call me Jessica.
I bent over to pick up a bottle and then it happened.
Hearing him speak my name was music to my ears! I got so excited and found myself smiling from ear to ear at him. To my delight, he returned the favor.
Mission accomplished!
After we finished emptying trash and sorting and bagging the recyclables we broke for a late lunch. As a gift to the families living there, our teams brought rice, beans and vegetables for them to prepare for themselves. More often than not, lunch for these families consist of whatever they find in the trash they sift through.
Sometime after lunch, while I was playing with Jaime’s little brothers, he broke away from us and soon after it was time to go. A sadness came over me. I wanted to say bye to Jaime but he was no where in sight.
As we waited by the van for the rest of the teams, I turned to see Jaime in the distance, walking towards me. I immediately recognized his purple shirt and muddy, navy blue pants. I started walking towards him with open arms. We met with an embrace and my heart was filled with so much joy.
In those few seconds, time stopped as we stood hugging on the muddy road.
Though heaps of garbage surrounded us and vultures flew above us, God’s love was between us.
And at that moment there is no place else I wanted to be.
“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” Psalm 139:8 NIV
