She chose me: encountering Carlita

“Look! I am bringing the city recovery and healing; I will heal them and reveal to them an abundance of lasting peace. I will restore the fortunes of Judah and Israel, and rebuild them as they were in the beginning. I will purify them of all the guilt they incurred by sinning against me; I will forgive all their offenses by which they sinned and rebelled against me. Then this city shall become joy for me, a name of praise and pride, before all the nations of the earth, as they hear of the good I am doing for them. They shall fear and tremble because of all the prosperity I give.” – Jeremiah 33:6-9

This passage seems too fitting for El Salvador. The gangs and war wrecked havoc and destruction of the city. It destroyed families and communities and stole the innocence of the children. Now, the Lord is working to heal the city and rebuild. There is much loss here, but also joy. You can see the joy and hope in the eyes of the children. They have the innocence that children should have, yet they still live in extreme poverty – amidst trash, under tarps and scrap metal, and on dirt and concrete floors. They live with diseases and sickness that cannot be healed because of lack of money to treat, lack of quality medical care to resolve, or unfit conditions to recover in when they return home. However, they have faith and joy. They are hopeful and cling to the Lord. How rich their spirit.

Yesterday, I met little Carlita. We were in a classroom as big as my bedroom with six boys who were about 8-10 years old. Carlita is four and is so small, but she saw me from the doorway and lit up. She grinned from ear to ear, waved and then proceeded to walk over, hug me and sit on my lap. We sat like that about 10 minutes, embracing and enjoying just being together. Of all the people on our team, she chose me, and I still don’t know why.

Shortly after, we were called to join the class of older kids in the nearby room. She jumped up and exclaimed, “Mi amiga, vamos!” and took me by the hand. We sat in a half-circle with all the kids as the teacher led them through stretches and songs to start the day. Returning to the small classroom, Carlita’s joy and orneriness shined through. Our chairs had to be side-by-side and touching, she had to hold my hand, and she absolutely could not pay attention to the teacher. Every time he looked away, she flashed her big, brown eyes up at me with joy and tried to play rock, paper, scissors. Needless to say, I couldn’t resist, and she got us both in trouble. After helping the children with their work and learn an important lesson — no hay familia perfecta — we moved out of the classroom to play soccer. Carlita insisted on piggyback rides, so we ran around, laughed, and attempted to play a little soccer with her hanging from my neck. I have no idea why this beautiful child chose me, but what an honor to love on her.

At the end of school time, we began walking to the village to see the homes of some of the families. This community was more rural than some of the others I had experienced in my short time there. We walked down a narrow trail through the trees until we came to a more defined gravel drive. There, we saw a few goats and waited for the rest of our group to join us. Carlita was not with us during this time, but as we waited on the others, her and her mother caught up to us. When she learned we were going to see homes of the children, her brown eyes sparkled again. She immediately grabbed my hand and began running down the drive, full of giggles and joy. She could not wait to show me her house. We arrived at the gate before all the others, and she fiercely called her mom to hurry to let us in.

Carlita’s home was not much, consisting of dirt floors with tarps overhead and some scrap metal to complete the walls. There was trash piled up in one corner, and an open fire for cooking in another. Of all the homes I have seen while here this week, this one had the least. Unlike most homes, I was surprised to meet her father upon entering. The men have been next to non-existent in the villages: only women and children fill the homes. But Carlita’s mother and father were very affectionate towards her; you could tell there was a lot of love in this home.

Fast forward a few minutes and her parents shared news I didn’t expect: Carlita was sick. She has been in and out of the hospital. Though I couldn’t fully understand the translation to learn what was wrong, I gathered there were issues with her throat and stomach, and there was not much the doctors could do. As we heard those words and prayed with the family, I became undone. This little girl completely stole my heart from the first moment I met her. We couldn’t communicate much, but we shared the language of joy. Yet, this beautiful girl was dying because of a lack of medical care and knowledge. How unfair. She hasn’t been given a fair chance at life because she lives in extreme poverty. My heart is broken. As we prayed over her and the family, the tears did not stop. The pain in my heart was too much.

Lord, please heal this little girl. Please remove the sickness from her body. Please pour blessings over her parents and give them strength. Please restore their family and provide peace. I know this is just one of the numerous examples of the many, many people who need your healing here, but it’s the one that broke my heart. When I go home, let me not forget little Carlita — her warmth and smile and big, brown eyes. Help me to fight for those who need care and find some way to help them. As I go home to a land of extravagance and abundance, let me be changed. Help me to share my experiences here. Let me not take for granted the wealth I have: the access to quality medical care and the ability to pay for it; a house with walls and a sturdy roof; an education that has provided for me; and a job that is easy and clean and air conditioned. Give me the remembrance of this place to quit complaining about my privilege. When I fail to recognize it, remind me of little Carlita. Remind me of all I have that could save her. Lord, allow me to cling to you when I go home the way these families cling to you every day. May I never forget all the blessings you have poured upon me.