Up in the mountainous village of Quinchicoto live 5 brothers and
sisters and a cousin. We don’t know how old they are, all of them are mentally
disabled, only one of them speaks a little, some cannot even walk, and they are
little midgets.
40 years ago their mother died leaving them to fend for
themselves. They have been shunned by the community because of their mental
disabilities. They used to live in two little wooden huts. Today three of them have
moved to a house built by the government right in front of the old huts. One of
them farms a little, usually their meals (which I don’t know if they have
everyday) consist of either potatoes or rice.
Our
mission today was just to love on them.
We brought them lunch, then started to clean out their houses.
Made of mud and bricks, it was dusty and musty in the cold climate. We took out
layers of damp blankets and gave them a good shake out in the open. My nose
started running from the dust. I headed back in again and went through piles
and piles of clothes to see which were extremely
dirty so we could ask the neighbor lady to help wash them. Honestly, if I
could, I would have taken all of the clothes and gave them a good wash.
The old house.
Extremely dusty with flies flying around.
The new government-built house. The thing is, the government just built them a house and then still left them to fend for themselves which they are not capable of.
Probably haven’t had a good meal in a long while.
Frances
and Carissa feeding Pedro outside his house. Pedro could not walk up to the
house where the others were eating because his stomach hurt too much. Unable to
talk intelligibly, he merely nodded or shook when addressed. Pedro enjoyed the company tremendously.
Shaking out the dusty blankets.
We brought them up to the neighbors’ house to take showers. Since
many of them were unable to walk, we had to carry them in a chair like kings
and queens. The production line was lice shampoo comb down, shower, a change of
clean clothes, feet and nail washing, nail clippings, haircut, shave.
Iganacio was one of the last ones to take a shower. He didn’t want to take a shower because he thought the water was cold. So we brought down some warm water in a basin to showed him that it was warm water. He then agreed to come.
Frances and Raul lovingly giving Pedro a shower.
Getting a haircut and manicure.
Check out Pedro’s face, he looks so content.
Lynda scrubbing down Alfredo’s grimy feet.
You could just see the priceless smiles that were on their faces.
The simple love of service and touch that they hardly ever receive made the
world to them. As I clipped away at their fungus-grown nails, or tried to
without hurting them, I just could not help but cry. How could they be so forgotten that literally all the nails have turned
yellow and there’s stuff growing under them? And when I anointed Ignacio’s
hands and feet with oil I couldn’t even utter a single word but just wept. Sadness
just overwhelmed me.
But then I’m reminded that they are not forgotten by God.
God knows their names.
They are not forgotten nor forsaken.
Matthew 25: 35-36, 40
35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was
thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me
in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I
was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ 40 ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did
for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
Anointing their hands and feet with oil.
After bringing back to their homes, we prayed for them and then
said our goodbyes.
Somebody told me that as they were praying for Pedro, he got
really sleepy and so they carried him to his bed. His face was so at peace that
they almost expected him to leave for heaven.
