Last week, we went to Juan's church to help mix and pour concrete for a bathroom and floor they were trying to build. We used shovels and water from buckets in a big pile of dirt to mix concrete. Certainly not the 'American way' to get things done. Pretty sure there would be mixing machines, contractors, and power tools if we were in America. But not here in the Dominican Republic! Five of us girls assisted one young man – a Haitian named Nelson, who prompted us to move this here and lift that there. We worked for hours in the hot sun, and I was enthralled by a little boy from the neighborhood who had come to help us. He couldn't have been older than four. He had no shoes, his feet were as dirty and calloused as they could possibly be. His ripped t-shirt was covered in sticky dust and dirt from hard days of play.
Alex with Junior's older brothers, Jonathan and Carlito.
Our host dad, Juan, took us to his home behind the church – piles of moldly stacked wood, barbed wire, and corrugated steel made up the dark structure that housed him and his four siblings. There were chickens, stray dogs, flat tires and garbage surrounding the home. My heart was like a pile of moosh as I watched this little boy tirelessly help us – sweep the floor of the church, sweep again, lift the concrete bags, carry the water, pick up trash from the church grounds… and when I say tirelessly, I mean… he really wouldn't stop! After seven hours of labor in the hot sun, it felt nearly impossible to even stand up – but this little guy was with us from beginning to end, and actually took the broom from me, motioning to 'sit down, it's okay,' while purposefully sweeping the floors.
Nelson, the master of concrete mixing, pouring, and building!
At the end of the long day, he sat down next to me, and I asked his name. His response was so quiet, I had to ask him to repeat everal times and I still couldn't get it. His big brown eyes were sad, and our whole team noticed that he hadn't smiled the whole time he had been working with us. I finally discovered his name – "Junior." He quietly whispered 'agua' to me as I sipped my cool, clean water from my Nalgene. I had already drank two full bottles of water, and with less than half in my bottle, I let him have the rest. He hadn't had water all day. He guzzled it down and contentedly sat next to me, watching us girls. I wondered,
"When was the last time he had had clean water?
Or had a good meal?
Or worn a pair of new shoes?
Or been able to play like a child – not having to worry about his next meal or working in order to make his way in the world?"
Jonathan, asleep on a pile of dry concrete mix.
I began scratching his back gently, and watched him as his little eyes sank deeper and deeper into sleep. Ahhh, peace for a child. Contentedness. This gave me so much joy, to be able to bless and care for this little one even if for a moment. I hope he feels the love of Jesus through me.
Junior and his older brother, Carlito.
Today, I was reading from Matthew, and stumbled upong this incredible verse:
"And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward." (Matthew 10:42)
I've been thinking alot about Junior. When I'm not working, I still picture his precious face. How many children's stories does this little boy represent? I have met so many children from the streets, the schools, the neighborhoods here in the city, and the poverty is extreme. It is urban poverty, the kind that smells and is way too populated and piled up with complexity, garbage, and lots of dependency.
But I have seen so much hope in Juan's story. He is our host 'dad' who is like a male-Mother Teresa here in the north side of Santa Domingo. He visits schools, churches, neighborhoods, and homes; sharing the love of Jesus, blessing people with his guitar, and bringing them food and water. We get to be on the front lines of the work here, and what I love most of all… is that we are a blessing to the little ones like Junior, even if for a moment – with the precious compassion of Christ. And thanks to this, he is one sip of water closer to being whole and healthy… most of all, before I leave here, I hope to see that little boy smile!
