Sacrificial love

So for the feast day of St. John Bosco, our Hogar, along with all of the hogars in the city of Santa Cruz, got together to celebrate Mass, have a dance competition, and a carneval in the afternoon with lots of Oratory-style games. (St. John Bosco, or Don Bosco, is the patron saint of youth, and it is with emphasis on his spirituality, that I am serving this year). We were gone for at least 12 hours in Santa Cruz... a long day for a child.

Around 5 pm, the children were getting noticeably more tired, as they had been going strong since 7 am... and they hadn't had an afternoon snack. I was in charge of a 5-year old that day,

and had bought her a popsicle... which thereby ended up on

her shoes, her clothes, her hands and face... her mouth too. Upon taking her to wash her hands, I saw two of our girls huddled in a corner: a 9-year old who we will name Maria, and her little sister, aged 5. They looked

frightened that I had 'found' them, which instantly made me suspicious, curious. I babbled in

Spanish, mainly trying to put them at ease, but also buying my eyes enough time to take in more

details of the situation.

Bit by bit, it occured to me: Maria had stolen two pieces of bread from breakfast along with a hard-boiled egg, and had carried them around all day, now making an evening snack for her little sister because the nuns, nor us volunteers, had

provided for the little one.

And in that moment, what I knew of Maria's history flashed into my mind: she was the oldest of three girls, ages 9, 7, and 5. They had been abandoned by their parents, and Maria had taken care of her sisters for some time on the streets before coming to the Hogar. And yet, after years of living at the Hogar, she was still providing for her sister, caring for her more than herself. It is quite humbling to learn how to love - to learn sacrificial love - from a child.

I only wish there was some way to show Maria how special she is, to show her how much God absolutely adores her and is grateful for her.