There are twelve tías (nannies) at Hogar Miqueas. They work in shifts and take vacations, but there are usually enough to cook, clean, feed, bathe, change diapers, do laundry etc on any given day. I’ve been amazed since day 1 at how much they are responsible for, yet how composed and patient they always are. But during the first couple of weeks, my teammates and I agreed that it almost seemed as though they didn’t expect us to talk to them. I’d asked for their names and tried to make small talk with some of them, but there usually wasn’t much response. And I finally realized that they really did not expect us to invest in them at all. In their minds, we ‘came for the kids,’ not for them. And when we do greet them and ask how they’re doing, perhaps they saw it as politeness and nothing more.
It really saddened me to think that this was their probable perception of themselves and of us. So I’m really grateful for the opportunity and freedom that we’ve had serve them in the past week.
One day, we had a lasagna luncheon for them to give them some down time and to thank them for cooking dinners for us. We set up small tables and spread ourselves out among the tables in hopes of engaging all of them in discussion. At first, none of the tías came to our table because there were fewer of them than we’d expected. I was initially disappointed, because I’d been looking forward to getting to know them more. But when we were finishing up our food, we decided to put two of our tables together so that we could talk to the tías. So Michelle C and I ended up sitting with three of them, asking about their families, lives, experiences as tías, etc. The tía sitting beside me was so amazing. She opened up about her heart for *PJ, one of the twin babies here who can’t see and can’t yet walk. She wept as she shared that she didn’t want PJ to live a life like she did. It turns out that she has had eye problems ever since she was a little girl. So while she can see a little, she has struggled with partial blindness her whole life. I listened to her earnest desire for God to heal PJ, and I told her that God could heal her too because age doesn’t matter. (In Acts 4:22, the healed man is over forty years old!) Since that conversation, my heart has gone out to that tía, who is clearly full of the Spirit in the way she takes care of the little ones. I’ve prayed for the Lord to heal her, and I’ve thanked Him for how He has used her struggle to give her compassion and empathy.
A few nights later, our team held an appreciation/prayer service for the tías per Michelle C’s suggestion. We had some of the kids help make flower invitations for them, as well as beaded bracelets. The service consisted of refreshments, worship, a mini sermon/gratitude speech by Michelle C, and an extended time of prayer. During worship, one of the younger tías told me that she was so thankful for us, and that no other mission group had ever taken the time to do something for the tías. It was sad but good to hear, and I was all the more thankful that God had placed it on our hearts.
During the time of prayer, we had them sit in smaller groups to share with each other and pray for each other while we went around to individual people. Several of them shared bits of prayer requests, but there was an overall quietness. We were told afterward that the tías aren’t used to this culture of recognition and sharing for prayer. It was completely foreign to them, and that was probably why they were shy about it. But my hope is that they will no longer see this as unusual or reserved for special occasions. My hope is that they will continue to be open with each other and with the body of Christ because they are worth the fight. They deserve to be fought for, and they deserve a whole lot of prayer, encouragement, and appreciation.
To the tías, we love you and thank you so much for serving these children and selflessly serving the Lord.
*(name changed for blog)
