A moment of magic in La Quinta

Azaria Spencer relishes childlike delight in a place still yearning for transformation

There he was sat on the ledge, his little legs dangling over the side.

He was wearing a little light blue buttoned shirt patterned with striped fish, along with denim shorts that met the tops of his oversized welly boots. His wellies looked as if they would fall from his dangling feet at any moment as he sat grinning at me. His smile big enough and bright enough to warm any heart.

As I approached, he lifted his arms to me, first wanting a cuddle to say ‘Hi’ and then desiring to be swung about in the air. The joys of being a giant, moving climbing frame. 

Of course, I don’t mind at all. This one had me from first smile. 

I thoroughly enjoy going down to ‘la quinta’ and running games with the children who live nearby. It doesn’t exactly feel like work. However, last time I was there, as I played with my friend in welly boots, I began to think about his home life.

He is one of 12, their ages ranging from eight months to 19 years old. Their mother, who is in her late 30s, recently gave birth to her 13th child. Sadly he died at less than a week old.

As I thought about his family I realised how easy it was to forget where these children live, what their family circumstances are and how challenging and difficult their lives must be.

They live in the heart of one of the poorest areas of Guatemala City. The depravity and poverty so stark in such a place, the stench of urine, the filth of the streets, women who in desperation have turned to prostitution, men gathering to take their turn. People living on the streets, suffering from addiction and mental health issues. A place saturated with violence, abuse, alcoholism, drugs.

And yet I have had many a joy-filled evening playing with the children there, a few hours a week where we can all forget and just play and have fun.

For example, when we were there yesterday I was sat in the street with some of the smaller children while watching some of the older ones playing with confetti.

They were running around with plastic bags full of paper confetti and as they ran, they would reach down into their bags, pull out a handful of the tiny pieces of paper and throw it over the heads of their friends (part of Carnival and Easter celebrations). Sounds of laughter and joy filled the street. 

At that moment a man I know, who lives on the streets, turned down our street and walked past. He paused when he saw me and said hello.

As he walked away, one of the boys followed him, calling his name – or street name at least. When he stopped and turned, the boy gave him a handful of confetti. What happened next warmed my heart.

With a huge grin on his face, the man lifted his confetti-filled hand above his own head and rubbed it into his hair. He looked delighted and elated. He turned and continued to walk away.

It was such a brief moment but it really moved me. It was sweet that he had stopped to greet me, it was kind that the boy had given him some of his confetti, and his childlike reaction to the confetti was magical to see.

So often the people you find here living on the streets have returned to different kinds of childlike behaviours, or perhaps never developed some adult behaviours. They often have stunted emotional growth, along with a myriad of mental health problems related to drug abuse and the horrors they have been through in their tough lives.

This diverse mix of work that we do here and the various groups of people we serve and work alongside, makes for very interesting and challenging days and weeks. There is rarely a dull moment and I am constantly being humbled and learning new things.

From children who capture my heart with a smile to fully grown men who can barely walk straight yet can still enjoy moments of childhood joy, this work and life is filled with blessings.

I hope and pray that just through being present, being there, being willing to love freely, people will know more of God’s love and transformation will come.

Published 28 March 2019
Region
Latin America

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