When I first walked into Casa Maria at the beginning of the month, my heart was immediately overwhelmed by the Holy Spirit. Casa Maria was not Plan A for our October ministry in Antigua, Guatemala. In fact, it was Plan C due to an excess of volunteers at Casa Jackson (center for malnourished babies) and at the hospital. However, it was no accident that we ended up serving at Casa Maria. I could instantly tell that this dark and deathly old folks home was where God wanted us to bring in light and life.
Casa Maria gladly welcomed us in, as volunteers and visitors are few and far between. The rooms are grey and bare, holding only a crowd of beds where the residents sleep. During the day, most of the elderly folks pass their time in the courtyard area. Many of them are wheelchair-ridden and others sit nearly motionless in chairs scattered throughout the patio. The tiny old ladies are bundled in Christmas sweaters and fleece blankets, complaining about the cold. The grey old men mumble to each other and to themselves. Bitter words are tossed back and forth, by both those who are consciously aware of their poor living situation and those whose minds are reliving struggles of the past. It appeared to us that these grandpas and grandmas were forgotten by their loved ones, left in Casa Maria until their lives come to an end.
Doing Morning exercises with the residents of Casa Maria.
It was uncomfortable, at first, finding out exactly how we could minister to these residents of Casa Maria. Despite language barriers (mumbling, toothless Guatemalans are not the easiest to translate) and gloominess of the place, we dove into ministry. Simply by holding wrinkled hands and nodding “Si" during one-sided Spanish conversations, the darkness of Casa Maria began to lighten.
When Julio isn't singing, he's playing with balloons with our team.
Now, my teammates and I find JOY in going to Casa Maria each day. We know most of the residents by name (those we don’t know by name we know by face, due to their inability to speak clearly). The old folks smile their toothless grins each morning when we walk in, and reach out hands to receive love, prayer and a friend’s company. A couple old men, Jorge and Julio, join us in playing with balloons, while others color and engage in conversation. Julio, one of my favorites, enjoys serenading us with his performances of Spanish songs, complete with a bow at the end.
Gloria, an 85 year old lady in Casa Maria, has been nicknamed "Giggles" due to her constant joyful laughter.
Although I have a special love for many of the Casa Maria grandpas and grandmas, I instantly connected with Carlos. He is a 75 year old Guatemalan man, who has spent the last 4 years in a wheelchair at Casa Maria, due to a stroke. Every day he reaches for my hand and kisses it, saying, “Tu eres divina.” (“You are divine”) I ask him about his life, and he shares stories about his family, a trip to Disney World and his time working as a dishwasher in the States. It breaks my heart that Carlos lives in Casa Maria. He is one of the few that is aware of the sad living situation he is in. Every once in a while I can see the bitterness Carlos has for his inability to walk, for Casa Maria, and for his family’s abandonment. However, it truly brings me joy to hold his hand each day, receiving a smile and a “gracias a Dios” from him when we pray together.
With my new friend, Carlos.
I am so thankful for our time in Casa Maria, and my prayer is to be the hands, feet and mouth of God as He brings light in such a dark, forgotten place. I am reminded that these are also God's children, who He has never forgotten.
