A Forever Home for Carla and Pinto

One of the first lessons Mozambique ever taught me was that a day never goes the way you expect it to go. Nothing is never any truer than on the days we go to bring children home to one of our houses. We plan out the day…travel to where the children are, put them in the car, take them shopping for clothes, and have them in their new home by the early afternoon. Sounds so simple, doesn’t it? Not! These days of collecting children are fraught with delays, detours, and unexpected events. Each of these days are different than the ones before them. None of them have ever been the same in the challenges we have faced. 

Case in point…our recent acceptance of this spunky pair of siblings, Carla and Pinto. 

We had received a call from Social Action for Women and Children asking if we had space for two children. At the time, we had space for three children and were about to finish the construction of our 6th house which would raise that number to nine. We responded with an enthusiastic, "YES!" They said they would get back to us. We immediately prepared beds so we would be ready for their arrival. And then began 7 weeks of daily calls to Social Action to ask for information regarding the children- Are they boys? Girls? How many? Siblings? Their ages? Each day, their answer was the same, “We don’t know yet. We are still preparing the documents.” This statement changed over the course of the seven weeks ranging from, “We don’t know.” … to “The documents have been lost, and we must start the process over again.” Our frustration grew by the day. 

Rarely has the information they have given us been correct. For example, we were once told there was a 5 and 8 year old pair of sibilings to place. We arrived to discover a 13 and 12 year old boy and an 11 year old girl. Another time we were told it was a trio of sisters, aged 13, 11, and 9. We arrived to a 16 and 8 year old boy and a 10 year old girl. Hmmmm…so when they finally told us they had documents to place an 8 and 4 year old pair of siblings with us, one a boy and one a girl, but they didn’t know which one was which…we were skeptical. Who knew what we would discover when we showed up. 

The day finally arrived when we could go collect the children and bring them home! The children were in Moamba, an hour drive for us. We left early at a good time and were expecting a good day…silly us! Delays, detours, and misinformation left us wondering if we would come home empty handed at the end of the day. 

The children were being placed with our foundation because they were at risk living with their elderly grandmother. She was no longer capable to provide safe care for them due to her dementia. Her house was in a village named Tenga. It was a long and challenging drive through flooded, muddy roads. Thankfully our 4-wheel drive van was able to get through. We arrived at the grandmother’s house. Her house and the surrounding yard were tidy and neatly cared for. Lines in the dirt evidenced that the yard had been freshly raked. Chickens were meandering about looking for crumbs to eat. Dishes from the day before were washed and neatly stacked to dry. The wash was done and hanging on the line in the morning sun. It was a peaceful place.

In usual Mozambican hospitality, she brought out every plastic chair she owned for us to sit in the shade of a tree. She herself sat on the ground before us. We soon discovered that only one of the children were there, but it wasn’t clear which one. Then it came out that none of the children were there. So the first order of business was to determine where the children physically were located. We learned that the little girl had been removed by the government for her safety. The little boy had been taken in by some ladies from the grandmother’s church. The grandmother broke down in tears. She had been asking for assistance from Social Action for months and had not received any help. Now that they were finally there to place the children, she began to regret her decision. She cried for fear that the children would be sold or killed. As we sat there, my colleague, Delcio, told me that when he was young, his parents taught him that if he saw white people, he was to run away. In the villages, they see white people as being traffickers who will steal their children away. I felt so sad thinking that she thought this of me. 

My heart went out to this poor woman who was so desperate and alone. I sat down on the ground next to her to share with her about our program. I showed her a photo of the home her grandchildren would live in. I told her about the nice school they would attend. I showed her photos of the other families we already have in our care. As we looked at photo after her photo and I told her about our children, she came to realize that she could trust us and that her grandchildren would be well cared for. Her only question to me was… “Will the children be raised to know God?” This was an easy question to answer as God is the foundation and purpose of all of our work. It was clear that she was a woman of faith and wanted her grandchildren to have faith as well. 

We all climbed into the car for a drive to where the little girl was being kept. We were guided to a local government office where we waited for the girl. As we waited under the shade of a large tree (on plastic chairs, of course), the caseworkers shared with us the concerns that led to the removal of the children. The grandmother vehemently denied them all. She in turn accused them of having a deaf ear to her requests for assistance. We also were told stories of the girl, Carla. They had tried placing her in school, but she would run away. She also had a tendency to wander off to a random house and take up residence saying she was going to stay and live there. I started to worry a bit about what we might be getting ourselves into. But past experience has taught me that the Lord leads us to each and every child placed with us. It is not Social Action who chooses the new children for our Sunshine family; it is God. He has a plan and a purpose for each child. 

As we waited, we never were told where she was staying, but eventually a man came down the road, forcefully ushering along a very distraught little girl. He had her by the arm and offered her no words of encouragement or consolation. He just pulled her along like an animal. I am forever amazed by the resilience of children. Can we even begin to imagine the trauma of experiencing the death of both our parents, then being forcibly removed from the only home we have ever known and from the grandmother who has been caring for us and taken to a strange place with people we don’t know? 

One thing I have witnessed with children is that family is family. It doesn’t matter how poorly a child has been mistreated, they still love their family and want to be loved by their family. When Carla saw her grandmother, she ran to her and climbed into her lap. My heart was moved to see them reunited and comforting each other through their tears. 

We returned to Grandmother’s house to complete the necessary documents. On our way, we gave Carla some cookies to snack on. Without hesitation, she gave half to her grandmother and ate the others herself. Already I could see what a sweet and thoughtful heart she had. After signing the documents, it was time to say goodbye and head back home. I felt so sorry for this grandmother, knowing she would now be alone in her little house with no children to keep her company. Carla climbed into our van and with a wave called out to her grandmother, “Vai com Deus!” (Go with God!) Yet again, she surprised me with her strong and joyful spirit. As we pulled away, Grandma turned and walked back alone to her house. 

As we travelled the hour drive back to Matola, Carla sat in the back of the van with me and my visiting friend, Julie. Carla took Julie’s phone and began looking at photos of her with her grandmother. As she handled the phone, music began to play. It was “Ave Maria”. She cuddled the phone into her chest, lay her head on my friend, and fell asleep. Julie was astonished saying that this song was not even downloaded on her phone; she had no idea how it came on. We rode along listening to the beautiful music and watching Carla sleep. As I took her in, the weight of it all came down on me. This little girl was now mine to raise. Her grandmother placed her in my care for life. I’ve brought home many precious children now, but for the first time, something about this homecoming impacted me in a new and powerful way. I felt so humbled. 

Now that Carla was placed in our care, and it was time to bring Pinto, her four-year-old brother, to join her as well. It was not as easy as it sounds. We got in touch with the ladies from the grandmother’s church who had taken him to live with them. They agreed to bring Pinto to live with Carla as long as we first took them all back out to Tenga and had the grandmother make a public apology. Apparently the grandmother had told the community that these ladies had stolen Pinto from her and were going to kill him or sell him. Their reputation had been tarnished and they wanted it restored. In the grandmother’s defense, they had never communicated their actions to her. They simply took the boy with them and didn’t tell her about it. So we did as the ladies asked, hauled everyone back out to Tenga to meet with the grandmother and the local chefe. Confessions and apologies were voiced by the grandmother and the ladies while the children played off to the side, completely unaware of the confusion that had been created. 

It was a precious sight to see these people reconcile with each other. Communication is for sure the key to relationship. We then left to return again to Matola...but this time with both children. Carla and Pinto settled in quickly at their new home with Zelda and their new siblings, Cecilia, Madalena and Antonio. Our original plan was to move them into our soon to be completed house #6 the next month. But the children bonded so well with Zelda that she asked to keep them with her. We agreed that this would be the best placement for them and left them together. They are a breath of fresh air in the household of teens. Carla is bright, spunky, and strong- willed. Pinto is just cute and fun to the core. They are both learning how to be a part of their new family. They are also now part of our larger Sunshine Family. Together we will love them and raise them up. It will be exciting to see what they become! 

Better Late Than Never

I always like to write the stories of each of our children on the day we bring them home to live in our Sunshine Houses for two reasons. One…it helps me process the day. It is such a joy to bring them home, but it is also emotionally heavy. Each of our children carry a sad story and come from situations of abuse, neglect, and abandonment. It breaks my heart to know what they have suffered and to know that many more children are currently suffering in similar circumstances. Second, it is a written record of their story that helps me to remember what they have been through. It is not that I want to look back and mourn what they have endured, but rather it allows me to celebrate their new life with us and their growth. I love witnessing the transformation in them spiritually, physically, emotionally and mentally. Once abandoned and orphaned children are placed in a safe, secure, loving environment where their fears and worries are removed, they get to be children again, free to play and love and experience life with the opportunities they now have before them. 

 I recently realized I never wrote the story of Fernando and his little brother Antoninho, whom we affectionally refer to as our “bichinho” (little bug). These two precious brothers joined our family in June 2021. Fernando was then 10 years old and Antonio was only 6 years old. They were placed with us by the Social Services for Women and Children in Manhica, about a two hour drive from us in Matola. 

 The mother of the boys had died shortly after Antonio’s birth. Their father was not suited to care for the boys and lived a lifestyle that endangered them physically and emotionally. It was so difficult that the boys chose at such a young age to leave their home and live on the street. This is how Social Action discovered them. The only location they had to place them in was an all-girls’ orphanage in Manhica. They were placed there temporarily until a more permanent placement was found. 

 Before we went to bring the boys home, we were sent this photo of them. Are they cute or what? Once placed in girls’ center, they were given the opportunity to go to school so this photo shows them proudly modeling their new school uniforms. 

This is the photo they sent to us of the house they came from. 

Needless to say, my heart was captured by them and their situation just from these photos. When we arrived in Manhica, after collecting the local caseworker from Social Action, we went to the father’s house to get information and complete documents. The living conditions were among the poorest I have witnessed. Their father was a fisherman, and not a very successful one from the appearance of their surroundings. He was also clearly not a very good father for reasons I cannot share. It was obvious the boys could not be raised in his care. He gave us their history and birth certificates, signed a document relinquishing his parental rights, and we were done. As we got into our car to leave, I realized with great sadness that at no point did he even ask who we were or where we would be taking the boys to live. 

Our next stop was to collect the boys from the girls’ center where they had been living. It was a lovely and tidy place, very well maintained. We met the boys and watched as the girls surrounded them and prepared them to go with us. It was adorable to see them doting over Fernando and Antonio. It was apparent that the boys had been pampered during their short time there. 

We said our goodbyes to the girls and walked to the van. As we were walking, I asked the boys if they would like to go and say goodbye to their father before leaving. Without hesitation or even looking up at me, they simply replied, “No”. With that, we loaded them in the van and took what has become our traditional photo with them in the back. 

It was quite late until we arrived at Sunshine House 5. It was dark outside and we were all tired from a long day. The boys were welcomed by their new mother, Catarina, and their new siblings, Faustino, Beatriz, and France. We left them to sleep and get to know each other. Over the next few months, they learned a lot about being in a family and having older brothers who do not appreciate being provoked and whose possessions they were not to take and break. Oh my! 

The boys have now been with us for about a year and a half. They have done a lot of growing! 

Fernando enjoys school and has recently begun reading. It has come with a lot of work. I often arrive at the home and catch him off by himself reading a book, laboriously mouthing out each word. He is determined to master reading! 

Fernando has struggled greatly with self-esteem. I could see in him that he felt a bit lost. One day, I asked him if he knew how very special he was. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “No”. Thus began my quest to reassure him and teach him how special he is! I am so happy to see all of the love and messages I have poured into him influencing him. He now greets me with a warm hug each time I come. Fernando has learned his place in the family and interacts positively with his brothers. Once a loner and outsider, he is now out and about with his brothers playing. 

Antonio is growing up too fast for us, as little boys do! He has lost his two front teeth and grown new ones back in again. 

He is gaining height by the inches every day. He loves, loves, loves to play…sometimes a little too much, according to his teachers at school. He is the first one to enter our learning center after school each day. His go-to-games are the puzzles. He has put together every puzzle on our shelves at least 10 times each! 

 I sit here at my computer smiling with the greatest of humble satisfaction as I write their story to share with you. As I said in the beginning, I usually write these stories on the day we bring them home. Therefore, I only know their past and nothing of their future. But for Fernando and Antonio, I now know a bit of what was to be their future experiences and transformation after leaving their past behind them. It feels good to write their story having seen them grow and change. Their story is just beginning. They are only 11 and 7 now. They have a lot of life ahead of them. I am so thankful to be able to experience it with them!

Parabens (Congratulations), Chef Catarina!

Our foundation, the Sunshine Approach Foundation, seeks to uplift and transform the lives of the poor, widowed and orphaned. Our Sunshine Homes serve two equally vulnerable people groups- widows/abandoned women and orphaned/abandoned children. By pairing one of these women with 4-6 of these children, we create families. While it is often the cute little children living in our homes who garner all the attention, we are as committed to our moms as we are to the little darlings for whom they care. 

It is our goal for our children that after receiving a full education and training, they will be prepared to enter the real world and live independent, self-sustaining lives as productive members of society. We have the same goal for our mothers when their children have left the family home. We have yet to have a child or a mother “age out” of our program, but for now, we are doing what we can to prepare them for this moment in their future lives. 

For our mothers, this means providing them with the training and tools they will need to live successfully on their own…much the same as what we are doing for our children. We shared with our moms that if there is an interest or training they desire to pursue, we will provide what they need to realize their dreams. All our moms have taken preschool teacher training courses to grow their skills as leaders for the community children’s projects they conduct at their homes. Zelda and Ilda have completed cake baking and decorating courses and are now baking and selling cakes in their community (not to mention our need to purchase cakes for the numerous birthdays for our children, moms, and community project celebrations which keeps their ovens running). These accomplishments have increased our mothers’ self-esteem and abilities, and we are proud to see their gains. 

Catarina is the mother at our 5th Sunshine Home. Faustino (12), his sister Beatriz (10), and their friend France (11) were the first 3 children we brought to her home in April 2021. She has done nothing short of a miracle in training these children who came to her ill-mannered, angry, and mistrustful. All 3 of them had been hurt and abandoned and never were privileged to learn the basic skills of living in a family. Catarina dug in her heels and took on this challenge. She was firm and loving, consistent, and present. Eventually, all 3 children have transformed under her watch into well-mannered, caring, and disciplined family members. 

Then in June 2021, 10 year-old Fernando and his little 7 year-old brother Antoninho (whom we affectionately refer to as our “bichinho”- little bug). These boys came from a life so difficult that they chose to live on the streets rather than remain in their father’s house. Catarina took them and blended them right into her existing family.

I love the patience and fortitude Catarina has displayed in her parenting of these children. I equally love Catarina’s zest for life and laughter. No matter her mood or situation, one is always greeted with the biggest of smiles and the happiest of tones in her voice. It makes you feel like she has been waiting all day just to see you! You get the sense that you are the joy in her life just by showing up! 

I cannot remember a time when I have entered Catarina’s home and not found a cooking show playing on the television. Usually, it is just background for her as she works about the house. But on the rare occasion, you find her sitting and watching the programs as famous TV chefs prepare delicacies whose ingredients I cannot even pronounce. At such times, I will sit with her, and we chat about foods, cooking, and our favorites as well as our failures. These visits led to a discussion on whether she would like to participate in a cooking course. Was she ever excited about that! 

We looked around and found a general culinary course at Escola Culinario, a not-too-distant walk for her in Matola. We got her registered and were pleased to discover that a course was starting the next week. The course was only 4 weeks long but being a full-time mom made this no easy task. Each day began with her seeing her 5 children off to school. She then prepared a lunch to leave behind for them when they returned from school at 12 noon. She then got herself ready and was in class from 10:00 until 2:00 each day, returning home about 3:00. You always knew when Catarina got home. In her usual authoritative “mom-manner”, she entered the home and started calling out the children on whatever chores they had disregarded in her absence, asking if they had eaten their lunch and calling back in anyone who instead chose to run off and play, and checking to see who did or did not complete their homework yet. She does make me laugh! 

I am pleased to announce that Catarina completed the course with great success. The end task was an exam where she was to purchase materials, prepare a full meal at home, and then bring it to her school to present to the professors. She chose to make a curry and amazing cake! Needless to say, the professors were pleased, and she passed, receiving her certificate. 

We now look forward to seeing what Catarina will do with her newly acquired culinary skills. She now has the ability to not only prepare nutritional and delicious meals for her family, but she can prepare meals to sell in the community or to cater events. We know that whatever she decides to do, she will approach the task and succeed. Well done, Catarina. Parabens!!!

Victory Comes in Small Steps

There is nothing more rewarding than seeing a life transformed. I have been privileged to witness many lives of the women and children in our Sunshine Homes and community projects, as well as with our company employees changed in our time in Mozambique. 

When people of any age are given security and value, they thrive. They are able to let go of their fears and take risks. They shed their low self-esteem and boldly walk in confidence. They are no longer disregarded and ignored, but they realize they have worth and importance. 

My very favorite experiences in life are when I catch one of our Sunshine children in moments of quiet victory; when I see them stepping out in their newfound confidence. One such example is our Faustino, now 14 years old. 

Faustino was only 12 when we brought him home. He was sorely beaten down, angry and distrustful. (See https://sunshineinafrica.blogspot.com/2021/04/forgotten-no-more.html to read his full story.) To say we were concerned about him is an understatement. Life had been hard on him, and he was a hard little boy. He had never been taught respect, diligence, or manners. He didn’t know of love or that he has value. He was disrespectful to his house mom. He was mean to his brothers and sisters. He provoked our other Sunshine children. He came to our weekly church gatherings with his hood up, his head down, and did not participate or speak a word. At the end of the gathering, he was the first one to exit out the gate. Our biggest fear for Faustino was that he would run off and join a gang of street boys. 

We prayed for him and we loved him despite his ways. His house mom, Catarina, stood firm with him and held him accountable. Our program administrator, Delcio, talked with him after altercations helping him to understand how to be a part of a family. We all hung in there and made sure he knew that he was loved and that we were there for him. 

Slowly, he began to soften. We saw it in little ways at first. The victories were few and far between, but we rejoiced with each one. As time progressed, you could see a visible difference in his face and in the way he interacted with others. He was kinder and gentler. He asked for an ABC book so that he could teach his little brother, Antoninho, how to write his letters. He spoke up and participated in our church gatherings (with his hood off now). He became an active help to his mother. He began making friends of our Sunshine children. He worked very hard in school and caught up to his peers (after not having attended school for two years). 

Recently, he called me to speak privately for a moment. I had a flashback to the early days when he asked for such audiences. It was usually to ask for money, to the angst of our other children who emphatically told him, “You do NOT ask Mama Terri for money!” So I hesitantly walked off with him to a quiet place away from the other children. He pulled out a sheet of paper from behind his back and started to read…

“Mama Terri, I am thankful for all that you have done for all of us. Thank you, Sunshine. I am here thank to you, Mama Terri. Thank you very much for giving me a life. All of you, Sunshine, are very good. Thank you, Mama Terri. 

Kisses to you, Mama Terri. 

I am Faustino da Sonia Carlos Sambo and I am 13 years old.” 

With tears in my eyes. I hugged him and held him until he let go. I shared with him how loved he is and how proud I am of him. I told him that he is a good, good boy. 

They say that as a mother you often must wait until your children are in their 20s or even 30s before they come back to you and thank you for all you have done for them. I didn’t have to wait this long with Faustino. He has come to realize the love and safety and opportunity he has, and he showed me how much he appreciates it all. 

And did you notice how he signed his letter? It was more of a declaration than a closing. He was confidently declaring who he knows he is. He is proud of himself. He knows he is somebody and that he is important.

 Another Children's Day has come and gone here in Mozambique. June 1 is a national holiday to celebrate our country's most precious resource...our children. There are parties everywhere... at schools, in homes, and in centers and projects that serve children. This is the one day of the year where each child gets a present, no matter how meager a family's finances may be. They may get just a party hat, a candy, or a balloon...no gift is too small. To prove my point, as I passed a local school, I saw a young boy, maybe 10 years old, walking out holding a balloon in the way you would expect him to carry a treasure of greatest worth... staring at it in wonder, turning it over and over to look at it from all angles. He came to a friend and passed it off to him, who exhibited the same awe for this small treasure. He took it in his hands, gave it a good look, and then handed it back oh so gently to its rightful owner. 

We ourselves had lots of parties going on this day. We had parties in the morning for our 4 Beacons of Light community projects. The verandas were decorated with balloons and streamers. The children were given party hats, prize bags, and presents. There was cake to eat and cool drinks to enjoy. In the afternoon, we had a party for our Sunshine children. We had our fill of chicken, rice, french fries, salad, cool drinks and cup cakes. At all of the parties, we sang and danced and played and rejoiced together.

My very favorite moment of the day came at the very end of it. We were passing out treat bags to our Sunshine children. They were bubbling over with excitement as they waited for their name to be called out to receive their gift bag. There was lots of noise, movement, and happiness. In all of this clamor, I spied Helio sitting behind me. My heart was instantly melted as I looked upon this little boy of ours. This little boy who had been abandoned, was living in squalor, and was left with no opportunity before him until God brought us together. 

Here he quietly sat... in his own little world... reading a book. He was so absorbed in it that he didn't even realize what was going on around him. Our typical Helio is all boy. He loves to play and can be quite mischievous, both at home and at school. When our phone rings and we discover it is the school calling, we can be pretty sure it will be about Helio.  Recently, reading clicked for Helio, and it has totally altered his course. It has taken him until 5th grade to master the ability to read, and he is beyond enthralled with the new world that has been opened up to him in books.  We are excited for him and trust that he will now take school a bit more seriously. We look forward to seeing him use his newly acquired skills to forge ahead. 

As I closed my eyes to sleep at the end of a long day, this was the image I carried with me from Children's Day. Best day ever, in all ways! Especially the unexpected moments!

More Time...

 More time...it is something we all think we have. Yet "more time" is not always available to us. Whether it is us personally or someone we love, there will come a day when we will not have a tomorrow. So maybe we should make the decision to live our lives making the best use of the time we do have. Then we won't have regrets later on. I trust that my reflections in this blog will encourage me and all of you to live selflessly for the people in our lives while we still have them with us. 

My dear, sweet Vovo Theresa died yesterday. When Delcio called to tell me the news, he began by telling me that he needed me to be strong. I wasn't; the tears flowed out of me, unsolicited. But they dried up as quickly as they came. How could I be sad when this blessed saint has left a world of suffering and poverty and entered into her place in an eternal kingdom of abundant life?!? All I could picture was Vovo Theresa walking, dancing and skipping for joy as she entered a banquet feast prepared just for her! Her life on this earth was not at all nice. She grew up in a very impoverished village. She knew what it was like to be hungry and to go without the most basic of things. She was a wife and a mother (who has buried 5 or her 6 children) and a grandmother. She scraped out an existence for her and her family. She lived a life of extreme poverty that you and I will never even be able to begin to comprehend. 

When I first met her 9 years ago, she was just plain old. She didn't even know how old she was! She did not have use of her legs and was not able to walk anymore. She lived in a one-room cement house with a metal roof. There was no electricity or water. No bathroom. She had a door but no window. In order to be safe at night from robbers, she would push the door shut and put rocks against it. Her only belongings were a few bundles of clothing and a grass mat that she slept on. When you entered her house, it was airless, stuffy and smelled of urine. Often, you would spy a rat scurrying off for cover. She did not have the capacity to care for herself at all. 

Her little house was connected to one occupied by her son, Bento. Bento could not walk either. He did not have the use of the left side of his body, most likely due to a stroke. Bento was a bit more physically able than his mother. He kept his room neatly swept out and clean. He had a pile of clothing in a corner and a grass mat to sleep on at night as well. 

Every day, Vovo Theresa and Bento would crawl outside and sit in their dirt yard in each other's company. This is where we would find them each time we came to visit. As soon as we exited the car, Bento would begin calling out to me repeatedly, "Mama! Mama!" And even though she couldn't walk, Vovo Theresa always, always greeted me with a huge smile and a dance as she sat on the ground. They brought me so much joy. I always made sure to kiss their cheeks (with a very loud "mwah, mwah" as I did), hug them, and hold their hands. I would kneel down next to them to look them eye to eye, even though my aging knees protested, creaked and ached. It was important to me to be on their level and not look down on them. Even with the onset of Covid and the warnings to not kiss or touch other people, I continued on. How has it happened that we live in a world where you cannot touch people anymore?!? They were so alone and had no one in their lives to simply touch them. No one else ever took notice of them. People would pass by on the road and not even see them there. I felt compelled to be that one person who not only saw them, but touched them. 

Bento spoke a very slurred Portuguese, and I, of course, spoke my pathetic "American Portuguese", but we were able to understand each other. In communicating with Vovo Theresa, though, I had to rely on Delcio because she only spoke the local Shongan language. 

We did what we could for them, bringing them fresh clothing and blankets, tea, sugar and food...basic things like this. We discovered that when we brought them the more "luxurious" items that we thought would improve their lives...a soft pillow on which to lay their head when they slept, an absorbent bath towel to dry off, a cushy mat to put under them when they slept or an exercise mat to sit on when they were outside, or warm blankets to stave off the cold on a winter night... they didn't use them! They hid them away inside their house because if people saw them, they would come and steal them from them!

So we had to be creative in special gifts for them. We opted for socks that they would keep on their feet, solar-powered lamps small enough to be tucked away, sweet cakes and candies they could eat unnoticed, and poison rat traps that could be drilled into the floor of the house. Vovo Theresa's most favorite treat was when I would bring her cashews. She said they reminded her of when she was a little girl growing up in Gaza where cashew trees are plentiful. She was always kind to share her cashews, passing them out to the little children who would gather and join us during our visits. These were little things, but they helped improve their lives. 

Vovo Theresa and Bento had an interesting relationship. They were mother and son. They were neighbors. But they talked very little and knew very little about each other. They were simply companions and a presence in each other's life. They had each other and kept each other from being alone. 

A funny story about them...Morning tea (with way too much sugar) and a type of bread called "pao" are a daily staple for all Mozambicans. So we made sure each month that Vovo Theresa and Bento had tea and sugar, and we arranged for a neighbor to bring hot water. We brought a bag of tea and a small bag of sugar for each one and would leave it in their house at the beginning of the month. I remember one month, the store did not have the small bags of sugar we usually bought, so we bought a large one, gave it to Bento, and told him to please share with his mother. We were shocked a month later when we brought the new supply of tea and sugar to learn from Vovo Theresa that Bento did not share the sugar with her the entire month! He kept it all to himself and she had to go without. Oh Bento...shame on you! And lesson learned for us in making future purchases for them. 

Our dear Bento died last year. It was heartbreaking. He had been sick for some time with a bad flu. The last time I saw him, he laid on his mat looking up at me with pleading eyes, calling "Mama. Mama." We made a plan with extended family to take him to hospital the next morning, but when we arrived, he had already passed. As heartbreaking as it was for us, I couldn't even begin to imagine how heartwrenching it would be for his mother. The extended family made the decision to not tell her until the day of the funeral. A wooden coffin was brought to the home and he was placed in it. I had to turn my head away as I watched the family carry Vovo Theresa from her room to his room to see him one last time. And I wept as I watched them carry her frail body back to her room again as it heaved with sobs. 

Bento was laid to rest and life continued on for Vovo Theresa. Yet now, she was really alone. With increasing frequency, we would arrive to find her shut inside her house, sleeping with the protective rocks holding the door shut. She never ever denied us entry. She always got up and moved them out of the way for us to come in. In time, she was not able to crawl to the door and move them. She didn't have the strength. So Delcio would reach under and push them until we could squeeze past the door. Yet she still greeted us by sitting up and doing her dance with her happy smile. Then it came to a point where she was not able to sit up anymore. She would lie on her mat and talk with us. There was no more dance in her. 

It did not come as an unexpected shock to receive the call from Delcio that she had passed away. But still, I cried. And then, I rejoiced. But then, what did come as an unexpected shock to me was the ugliest of thoughts that came creeping in. Had I really done enough? Couldn't I have done more? How many times did I not pull off the road and go back to visit her because I was busy? Why didn't I stop by on New Year's Eve last week with a treat for her? How was it that I didn't even know she was sick this week? I had done so little and could have done so much more. I could have taken more time to sit with her, not even to talk, just to be there with her. In my house, I have many empty water bottles that I kept to bring water to her on hot days. Why were they still there in my house? I should have taken them to her filled with cool water. So now, I found myself throwing them out, one by one, realizing that each one represented time with her that I no longer have. 

I share all of this not to have anyone comfort me saying that I did do a lot for her and blessed her. I know I did. And I realize these horrible thoughts were sent to make me feel badly. So I chose to turn these negative thoughts into more constructive ones by asking myself, "What can I learn from this?"

Visiting with these two barely recognized people who were truly "the least of these" has been the biggest honor and privilege of my life. I loved them dearly, and they loved me back. Not for the things I brought for them, but I know in my heart that they loved me because I SAW them and spent time with them. When I would go away for long periods of time to the US, upon my return, Vovo Theresa would be so happy. She worried about me when I was away and didn't visit. She worried something happened to me! Me! This little old woman worried about me! Bless her dear heart!

So...what have I learned? Because of Vovo Theresa, I am going to make a conscious choice followed up with conscious actions to BE there for the people in my life. I don't want to be a self-centered person who indulges myself. I don't want to be too busy or too lazy to give of my time. I want to be the person who is willing to go out of my way and out of my comfort to bless others. We live in a world where we are increasingly being isolated from each other. This is wrong. This is destructive. I want to be the person who stands against this and chooses to love others and be with others... touching them, talking with them, being with them, and being a blessing. 

Over the past year, I have struggled to get out of the car at Vovo Theresa's house, knowing I would not be hearing Bento calling out, "Mama! Mama!" Today, I find it hard to bear the thought of going to their humble home for the funeral tomorrow and not being greeted by my sweet Vovo. But I will go and pay my respects to honor this lovely saint...and I will then move on to be a better person by actively loving the people in my life. Because we do not always have more time to love them. So we must take advantage of the time we have now. I hope you will make the choice to do the same.