Her name is Anastasia. I am sitting on the rocks overlooking Mozambique’s coastline. I am amazed by the hundreds of people swimming in this ocean that is also filled with sewage.
Our lunches are passed out (2 PB&J sandwiches and an ice cold coke). I turn toward Anastasia. “Tienes hambre?” I ask. She nods and I hand her my 2nd sandwich. You can tell that she is famished because by the time I remove my sandwich from its Ziploc bag, hers is nearly gone. Who knows when her last meal was or when her next one with come. Despite her obvious hunger, when another young beggar boy wanders up, she immediately hands him the remainder of her lunch.
Later, as we are packing up to leave, I see that Anastasia has been given two half-empty sodas (coke & orange fanta). Her face lights up like a kid on Christmas at these treasured gifts. She looks at the drinks in her hand for a moment, chooses one, and gives the other to another child.
I continue to watch this community of beggars. Everything they are given is divided and shared. No one has an abundance, but everyone has enough to live. I am reminded of the widow’s mite.
I gave to Anastasia out of my wealth- my extra sandwich and my leftover drink- but she, in turn, gave out of her poverty. I am humbled by her generosity.
