As I turn and peer out the small airplane window to my left, a certain poignant sadness rises within my being like a minnow gliding through a pond, escaping and being consumed. It is the first time in my 17 years that I feel so humbled by my circumstance. Time, as we so often hear, flies by. But that remains quite the understatement. Time whizzes right past without even our recognition so that when we try to remember its character, it appears as a mere illusion. People, however, have the beautiful capability to grasp hold of time and glide right along with it if they so choose.
Being young and naive to the world around me, I would not have recognized this reality upon arriving at the military base in Huehuetenango, Guatemala, if it had hit me in the face. That was soon to change, however. About four days into the trip, I was making my daily rounds in the recovery area—making beds, fetching instruments for the nurses, and thrilling young children with temporary tattoos and bouncy balls—when I stopped at the bed of a hernia patient to ask if she would like a snack or something to drink. She said she was fine, but thanked me with a soft smile. Her husband was present alongside her. Seeing how this was the perfect opportunity to practice what little Spanish vocabulary I had, I leaned on the adjacent bed and began to ask how their day was going. As they were a fairly young couple, I thought it appropriate to ask the pair if they had any children, not at all expecting the response they gave. There was a brief pause, but then the man responded: "Four." He hesitated a bit. "But now we only have three as we lost our son in an accident in the river." I didn't know quite how to respond. I felt a wave of emotion as I just stood and looked into their eyes. Behind these simple faces there was a story stricken with great pain—yet they looked happy. I am a high school student with a very blessed life. Nothing I have endured even comes close to what this couple goes through every day. However, I have to imagine that losing a child is the most awful pain one can suffer in life. It must be like losing a part of oneself.
All I could do was look into their eyes and attempt empathy. I slowly pulled out my small digital camera and asked if I could get a picture with them as I didn't want to ever forget that moment. They smiled in agreement and took my hand to say good-bye.
HELPS International gave me the most incredible experience of my life. The physicians, the cooks, the members of the Stove teams, the translators, the Guatemalan people and everyone involved in the organization reminded me that even within the darkest corners of this world there is a solemn glimmer of the sun. That glimmer is hope. I must say that every once in awhile, I begin to take my life for granted, letting time get the best of me. But then I remember Guatemala, and I grab hold of its swiftness once again.
Helps International
- copyright 2004 - All rights reserved
By: Laura Dorle