Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Peaks and Valleys


After a meal of eggs and bacon or maybe just peanut butter we loaded the bus and made our way to hospital escuela. (hospital school where people training to be doctors learned their trade by giving medical care at a reduced price). We'd already loaded hundreds of diaper bags on our bus in boxes and quickly pulled them from the rear of the bus while a parking attendant fussed and prodded our driver to get out of the parking lot.
Loaded down with our boxes we marched into the hospital and climbed the four flights of stairs leading to the maternity ward. Two guards sat behind a desk at the top of each flight of stairs. They directed us to the ward and we began unloading bags so that our ladies could deliver bags full of diapers, children's clothing, bottles, and formula. 
Whenever a box is opened in honduras people take interest. They show up out of nowhere as if there is a secret network of  informants making sure everyone knows there are good things to be had. Our ladies ventured off into the maternity ward to encourage the fifty seven new mothers resting six to a room. The youngest, a mother of twins, was fourteen years old. One woman lay in her bed alone, blankets pulled up to her face. She was emaciated and stared at the wall with a vacant look in her eyes. She had lost her baby.  
Our boxes of bags were piled side by side in a hallway outside the ward with two silver plated elevators side by side. I did my best to keep bags ready for our girls as they entered and exited the ward. The rule, to avoid chaos, is that we don't give items out of the boxes to people who walk up and ask. I was dreading having to turn them away. An older woman with a milky cataract eye came up to me first asking for a bag. I told her i couldn't but that she could get one in the maternity ward. As soon as she left I felt hardhearted and terrible. I prayed that God would bring her back so i could sneak a bag to her and then couldn't say no to anyone else after that. shortly, while Edna was reloading, the older woman returned and Edna immediately gave her one.
After all the bags were gone, a few of us went down to the children's cancer ward. They sat in a medium sized room with iv's in their arms receiving chemotherapy. Some were babies and others were in their teens. Matthew had a deck of cards and after a little talking we explained the game of, "go fish". Two girls watched us from the other side of the window and slowly inched towards the entrance. When they got close enough we invited them to play with us. They laughed and laughed as we told them, "pescar". (to fish)
Matambritas (hunger killer) is an incredible hamburger joint in down town Tegucigalpa. Some of the more interesting concoctions are theRed hot Chiri Papas (chili fries), Chuck Norris (an extremely spicy burger) the Pious Maximous (a double chicken breast sandwich) and the pio rio (a hamburger and chicken breast burger).  We all stuffed ourselves and headed off to the school for blind kids.
The blind school is always a real joy. The children are well taken care of, well behaved, and full of happiness. Frankie, a seven year old with some sight, was quick to grab my hand and ask to play soccer. A plastic ball full of rice makes enough noise for these children to locate it and allow them to play. They don't let off either. They run full on towards the ball and kick it towards their friends with uncanny accuracy. The most uplifting part of being at the blind school is hearing them sing. All the children sing like angels. We were all  uplifted.
Aside from candy, the children love to receive stuffed animals with lots of different appendages. As I sat soaking up the notes of one of their songs one of the men who runs the school came up to a boy sitting at my table. Being blind as well, he ran his hand down the boys arm until he found the hand that held a stuffed pokemon doll. The doll was plush with long pointy ears, short horns, fat legs, and a tail with a bulb of fuzzy fur at its apex. I watched as this man slowly slid his fingers along every bend and stitch of the toy. It was fascinating. I felt a little like I was trespassing, peaking into their world, as i watched him seeing this object. I tried to imagine what he was picturing as he felt along the edges of the strange animal. I wondered if his mind created pictures or if he had a mental catalogue of different textures to compare the animal to. God has given him an ability to see in a way I can never fully understand. It made me realize how much I still have left to learn.

1 comment:

  1. Paul dear son in law are you living on peanut butter? those bacon and eggs sound so much better than p b and j. I know Edna and Ramona and you Paul enjoyed giving out diaper bags for the ladies in the maternity ward..my heart breaks for the sad woman who went home without her child. Prayers for her. I have such emotional memories of the blind school. For me it was the highlight of the mission trip years ago. Those children don't just sing like angels, they are angels. Bless you all for brightening my day reading all about you amazing missionaries journeys.

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