A Strange Dream
At the beginning of my first pregnancy, I dreamed about two sisters, who showed up at the front door needing a mommy. They were very young and were neither Garifuna nor Spanish-speaking. It seemed like more than a strange pregnancy dream, and I occasionally remembered it and wondered if it was from the Lord.
A Loud Introduction
We moved into our very own house in 2014, when J was a baby. That fall two single moms came to live across the street and one house down. Originally from the nearby Bay Islands, they speak a variant of English similar to Jamaican, and their culture is different from Latino or Garifuna. The previously peaceful street began to reverberate with loud music and yelling at the three-year-old boy and two-year-old girl.
"Do Not Hinder Them"
"Danny" and "Jane" (pseudonyms) played unsupervised outside, and they liked to spend time outside our front gate. I kept J away because Danny sometimes bit, pinched or scratched, even under my watchful eye. However, they followed me when I took J for afternoon walks. I did not want to be associated with them because of Danny's destructive behavior and bullying, although Jane was kind and shy. Little by little they "adopted" me, and I realized they were used to being looked down on and driven away. One day a woman said, "There are your three kids!" I cringed but said, "Well, Jesus said to let the children come to Him, so they can follow me if they want!"
Sisters and Good-Byes
July 2015 brought a new sister for Jane ("Rose"), followed by our Miss A's arrival the next month. Six months later, Jane and Rose's mom immigrated to the U.S., leaving them in the care of Danny's mom. By this point, Jane anticipated our daily walks, and J and I enjoyed her company. Her aunt yelled at her and hit her much more after her mother's departure, and she often cried outside our gate. One day, I saw the aunt drag her inside by her hair, whipping her with a belt; it was impossible not to notice her screaming and crying each day.
Honduras has a child protective service agency, but child abuse often goes unreported. Jane's aunt uses substances and associates with people who could pose a threat to someone who would report the abuse and neglect. In this situation, at least, the best course of action was to stay on good terms with Jane's aunt and look for ways to help Jane.
Jonah
Spring 2016 I took the kids to visit my parents. I had grown to care about Jane, but I was not sad to get away from the noise and distressing situation across the street. The Sunday before returning to Honduras, I told the Lord that I really did not want to go back: having babies in a different country and culture was part of my complaint, but I also dreaded returning to our neighbors. The sermon that morning was about Jonah's unwillingness to go where the Lord sent him, and I felt clearly convicted yet assured by God's love. I cried through "Oceans" at the end of the service, packed our suitcases, and gritted my teeth as we pulled up to our house.
Birthday Girl
By the time Rose and A were going to turn two in 2017, I had gotten to know Danny and Jane much more, but Rose still wasn't allowed to come on walks with us. Her aunt threw a big birthday party, inviting friends and neighbors. We sat outside while food was served, a piñata was enjoyed by kids, and loud music blared. It was clear the party was more for the adults and not at all about the birthday girl. All Rose wanted to do was sit in my lap. If I went inside to get something for one of my kids, she would follow me. It was kind of embarrassing because she had family members there, people who looked and talked like her, but she and Jane were tired, shy, and ignored, and they felt most comfortable with me.
As we prepared to spend four months in the U.S. that fall, I was heartbroken to leave Jane. She told me her mom went far away and would not come back, and I did not want her to feel abandoned again. I thought of her and Rosie and prayed for them each day, this time anticipating our return. January 2018, upon arrival, Danny, Jane, and Rose were the first welcome us. What joy when they ran into my arms!
Room at the Table
The kids were often hungry, but I had only felt comfortable giving them snacks. This changed when their electricity was shut off and their mom couldn't cook for them. I started making them lunch and dinner, supposedly until she could pay off her electric bill. However, I was taken aback by just how hungry the girls were, much more than Danny: they would try to eat crumbs off the floor, asked to eat whatever my kids didn't want, and would get stomach aches from eating quickly and too much in one sitting.
They all stayed with a relative for a month, and when they returned Rose looked thin, gaunt, and weak. I realized they were not getting enough to eat, and the food they were given was lacking in nutrients (chips, popcorn, cornflakes, for example). Fernando agreed we should feed them on a regular basis, and my mom provided reassurance that this was the right decision. "Just remember," she said, "you might get hurt by opening your heart to them, but God has put them in your life for a reason."
The relationship between the Jane and Rose and my kids and me deepened as they ate in our house and/or our front step almost every day, and their energy level and mood improved. I felt sad I had waited to take the step of feeding them and felt thankful to care for them in this important way.
"I Don't Want to Go Home"
The girls preferred to come to our house if people gathered to have parties at their house, or when their aunt would leave them home alone (sometimes for hours). One night, after my kids were asleep, Rose's aunt still hadn't returned, so she waited with me. Finally, I took her outside, where an "uncle" said he was to spend the night until their aunt came back. Rose was crying and saying she did not want to go home, that she wanted to stay with me. She continued crying as she walked into her house, a moment I won't forget.
Will They Come Back?
In summer 2018, they left to see family on the island, and as the months passed, neighbors speculated that they might not return or, perhaps, could be en camino al norte ("on the way north"). I missed the girls a lot and prayed for them every day. I hoped that, wherever they were, they were better off than they had been when they lived across the street. Then, in March, a taxi pulled up in front of their house, and the three kids (and their mom/aunt) came right over to say hi. I was elated!!!
Open Arms
Since their return, I have noticed some improvements: a bit less yelling and hitting across the street, and Danny's behavior is better. However, I made the choice to only let Jane and Rose inside (although I give Danny food), and the relationship continues to deepen. Most days, they play with my kids, eat at our table, and look to me as a mother figure, as if they were all siblings. Sometimes I do not let them come in: we get sick, are tired, have a lot to do, or need time to address our J's and A's needs. However, as much as possible, my arms are open for hugs, my ears for listening to their feelings and ideas, my kitchen for meals, our toys and books for a safe place to play, and my voice to tell them I love them (and to get along with each other... or else!). :)
I do not know how long they will be in our lives. I would love to watch them grow up, help them with school work, discover their talents and dreams, and include them in our family as much as possible. It is a day-by-day learning experience. While Jane is old enough to better understand her reality and find ways to cope, it is difficult to see Rose neglected and, honestly, unloved. Some days are exhausting and heart-breaking because I cannot care for her the way she wants and needs, and I am constantly praying about how God would have me respond to them while caring for my husband, kids, extended family, and home. Mother's Day was beautiful, celebrating my loving mom and mother-in-law, delighting in my kids, yet Jane and Rose are ever-present as almost-daughters in my mind, and I wish I could give them so much more.
What I Am Learning
- Pity vs. Compassion. Instead of saying "Oh, poor things" and turning away, I strongly believe in recognizing these girls' dignity and choosing to sacrifice because we love who God has made them to be. The truth is, they contribute a lot to our lives just because of how He has created them. They are gifts to us, not a charity project, and I love discovering their idiosyncrasies and interests. Sometimes this means my kids catch sickness from them (or vice-versa!) and sometimes I really don't want to wash extra dishes or have extra chaos in the house. When Rosie hasn't had a bath and I wipe the grime off her face and arms, I remember that her current condition does not define her, and God has welcomed and cared for me as His child in my own vulnerability and shame.
- Spiritual Hunger. By meeting physical and emotional needs, there is an open door to share spiritual truth that, I pray, will lead to commitment to the Lord in the future. Once, while eating dinner, I asked the girls if they have the same father. They both immediately shook their heads. I then asked what their fathers names are, and they stopped to think a bit before answering. The Lord prompted me to tell them that the two of them, my kids, and I all have the same Father (I pray this becomes reality by their own decisions later), the God who created us and has made a place for us with Him in heaven. When we hugged good-night later, I told Jane to remember that we have the same Father, and she was beaming. The next day she reminded me, "Remember, we have the same Father!"
- Your Kingdom Come. Each day I seek to make our home a place where God's kingdom reigns. Outside we see injustice, racism, abuse, neglect, condescension, etc. - the high cost of sin. Inside, by God's grace, we cultivate fear of the Lord, responsibility, kindness, forgiveness, purity, true joy, peace, love... In spite of my own shortcomings (and impatience!) as a mom, I want God's kingdom established in our home, regardless of what happens right outside our gate.
A song I turn on while the four kids play has become my prayer for each of them ("Who You Say I Am"):
"Who am I that the highest King would welcome me?
I was lost but He brought me in, oh His love for me. Oh His love for me.
Whom the Son sets free, oh is free indeed. I’m a child of God, yes I am.
Free at last, He has ransomed me, His grace runs deep.
While I was a slave to sin Jesus died for me. Yes He died for me.
In my Father’s house there’s a place for me. I’m a child of God, yes I am.
I am chosen, not forsaken. I am who You say I am.
You are for me, not against me. I am who You say I am."
May God be glorified in their lives and in our family!
