"Whoever welcomes a child in my name welcomes me”

I had never been able to experience the joy of “true religion” as James says of caring for orphans in their distress as I have here in Bolivia. Many times we had the blessing of visiting and helping out at a few orphanages around the city. One organization is called Casa de Amor and was started about 6 years ago by a 22-year-old MK, and it has grown to 4 different houses with about a dozen children in each. At the first house (0-4 yr-olds), we held, played, fed, and just loved on those precious babies and toddlers. It was shocking how much horror some of those tiny kids have already been through. One little baby was wearing a stretchy ski-mask type thing over his head to cover burns he received when a gas stove exploded and killed his mom. Another baby girl was beaten so badly by her father that she would have deformed legs and likely brain damage as well. A humbling and priceless experience was to play with and tenderly guide a 4-year-old girl blind from birth and most likely autistic. It broke my heart to think of how her parents must have abandoned her. The woman who started the orphanage visits the hospitals in the city every week to rescue babies abandoned at the hospital. The kids at Casa de Amor may not have parents, but they are loved dearly by the staff (which consists of both American volunteers and Bolivian women). Praise God that those children are there and not living on the streets or already dead.

Another orphanage (probably my favorite) that we were able to visit twice in my time here was called Casa de Alegría (joy) and was home to 11 girls over the age 13. The first time we made butterfly crafts with tissue paper and decorated fabric butterflies lovingly put together and left by a volunteer – Thank you so much Misty! I shared a brief message about how our faith as Christians is like the life of a mariposa (butterfly), especially referring to our rebirth. Despite varying levels of Spanish ability among our group, we all got to know more about the girls and just show them how loved they are by the greatest, most faithful Father ever. This past Wednesday, I kind of impromptu shared a message from a devotional that Misty (again) graciously left for those girls about the alegría that God promises us as His children, which is independent of our circumstances or feelings—different from felicidad (happiness). God definitely empowered me to do that and then pray in Spanish, as He has blessed my Spanish ability throughout this entire trip. We played all sorts of games, even “2 Truths and a Lie” in Spanish, that helped us to get to know each other and break down their timidity. Again, I was struck by how similar we all were, yet burdened to realize that they probably would never know the love and protection of an earthly parent. I am so thankful, though, that these girls are getting an education at high school and are safe in that home, with each other for family, and not pregnant like so many other 14- and 15-year-olds in Bolivia. I will dearly miss them. Please pray for their faiths to be bolstered, and for them to know that they have a Father whose love never fails.

Another beautiful opportunity I’ve had here in Cochabamba was to wash street kids for an hour on Saturdays. A group of missionaries came together to start doing this a while ago on their own, and it just keeps growing. We set up a couple tents and fill tubs with water to bathe little children and wash the older kids’ hair. Anna, a volunteer with me at HOH, brought lots of clothes and beautiful dresses made out of pillow cases that were donated to her to give to the kids after the bath. It’s amazing how the people who regularly do the kid washing rely on God to provide everything: the kids, the water, the clothes… and He always comes through! It was such a blessing to be a part of that.

When Two Worlds Meet

It’s not every day that the rich meet the poor, that two people – one from the world’s richest country and the other from one of the most depraved nations of the world – get to spend a day together and realize how similar we really are. But it is a beautiful blessing when two worlds meet. On May 30^th, I had the amazing opportunity to actually meet, face-to-face, the 14-year-old boy I have been getting to know through snail mail since Christmas. It will be difficult to put the experience into words, but I’ll do my best.

His name is Saulo Apaza, and he lives with his mom, dad, and two brothers in a tiny town without running water on the south side (the poor part) of Cochabamba. I left early Monday morning from the guest house and managed to find my way to the Compassion office in the middle of the city – about an hour-long journey by the public transit vans called trufis. From the start I knew it was going to be a day of tangibly seeing God’s hand at work. For instance, a stranger who had heard where I was going kindly let me know when to get off and where to go. (That was right after I prayed God would let me know somehow when to get off in this vast, unfamiliar city… talk about answered prayer!) All day I fervently prayed for God’s help understanding and speaking Spanish, and He granted me that as well.

Anyways, the blessed visit began in the Compassion office right after I was filled in that the other kids at the project might ask me if I was their sponsor or to please tell their sponsor to write them letters. Only 5% of all sponsored children ever get to meet their sponsor, and I was told that very few come to Bolivia. Then I was greeted by Saulo with a big bear hug from this cool, athletic-looking 14-year-old boy – that would never happen in the States! His dad and the sponsorship director, Jimena, accompanied us all day, and I enjoyed getting to know them. In the taxi to Villa Israel (his town), I excitedly gave him his gift: a drawstring backpack that read Houghton College, art supplies (because he loves to draw), and my old iPod nano with lots of Christian and Spanish music on it. In return, he presented me with a flawless, soft, white t-shirt he had sewn by hand. That was such a fun, touching moment.

I don’t want this to be too long, so I’ll try to sum up the day quickly. First I got a tour of the student center where Saulo spends his afternoons (along with 400 other students) and attends church. Then we went to his house, where I met his Quechuan mom (in traditional indigenous garb), who had prepared a delicious lunch for us. (I ate everything I was given—even some new and interesting things—praying all the while that God would keep it down.) Then Adolfo, Saulo’s dad, took us for a drive to see a large lake and show me around other parts of the outskirts of Cochabamba. Finally we played Wallyball (my new favorite sport—volleyball in a racquetball court—which is very popular here) with the other 14- and 15-year-olds in Saulo’s classroom at the student center.

It was such a neat reminder while just enjoying myself with Saulo and his friends and family that we were brothers and sisters in God’s big family, and neither cultural nor economical differences affect that. It was also a painful call to keep Saulo, his family, and the other kids in my prayers and to write him more often. When they first told Saulo I was coming to visit, he thought they must mean someone else because I hadn’t written very often. I felt so bad hearing that, realizing that I had let my busy life at college hinder our relationship. But his dad and Jimena kept saying that Saulo was so excited and happy that his “cabeza está en las nubes” (head is in the clouds). One of my favorite moments of the day was when his tutor asked him how he felt and he replied with a grin, “feliz.” I have a lot to learn from their abundant joy despite having so little, and I am looking forward to continuing to grow our relationship through our letters. I cannot thank God enough for the blessing of that visit.