Woven Love

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Dry, dirt bricks sagged as though continuous rains had pounded them down. Two bare, open windows were carved into the side of the house. A tin roof lay buried underneath the pressure of escaping weeds and grass. Inside a room no bigger than a small car, swarms of flies hovered in the air. We sat waiting for instructions at a table designated for us gringos. Women draped in exquisite trajes graced our presence with stew and tea. Their delicately, hand-woven, bright colored clothing lit up the room with beauty. I sat amazed at the gorgeous outfits and the filthy, fly-infested, dirt home.

A little girl barely sat visible in the second wooden pew. Her hair, parted perfectly down the back of her head, had each section tied up. A stripped white rag delicately wrapped the soft brown knots to keep the baby hairs from wisping away. I watched as the child restlessly sat listening to the sermon and bobbed her head from side to side. She glanced around the sanctuary as though looking for something intriguing on which to lay her focus. Two tiny curious eyes swept past mine and stopped abruptly at my inquiring smile. The edges of her mouth flexed upward as a small, shining glimmer traced the doll-faced grin. She quickly turned her head back towards the front after shyness had swept over her small body. Only a couple of minutes passed before she peeked back over her shoulder and giggled through her crystal eyes.

The children stared as we passed and shyly clung to their mothers' cortes. They held back after their parents inched forward and shook our hands heartily. "Buenas dias, senorita" The clan welcomed us with so much warmth and hospitality that my emotion got caught in my throat. Pine needles lay strewn across the floor and felt like imitation carpet as our soles sunk down. Signs in Spanish, Quiché, and English welcomed us as their brothers and sisters. Songs filled the air as the group belted out words to us accompanied by a guitar and a big instrument strung with rubber bands. Voices were off key, but joyous and loud - full of praise. Four little boys darkened the doorway with their curiosity. Walking toward them with candy in hand, they scattered like jackrabbits. I repeated this episode several times until I finally tossed a small handful of the sweets onto the ground. They raced, shoved and pushed to get to their treasure. Feeling more reassured, they clung to me asking for more dulce and I gave in to their craving eyes. From then on, my side was never left by some of the small children. Time slipped by and as we got up to leave, a blind woman with blurred eyes thanked us repeatedly for coming and spending precious moments with them. She would always remember that day and pray for us. As we drove out of the village, two girls with bare feet and cracked, dry skin, ran after our van with their small hands extended out from their bodies yelling unheard words. Adults, youth, and children waved and smiled as we disappeared down the mountain. The village was filled to capacity with love.

The society of the Mayans in Guatemala appears to be very different from our luxurious life. They wash their clothes, do dishes and bathe all in the same community sink. The people have no electricity, refrigerators, Laz- Z-boys, televisions, or even running water. As though they live in Bible times, the Mayans draw water out of the well and scrub their clothes on stones. Pigs and chickens sit lazily in their compounds.

Many people and missionaries rush down to third world countries such as Guatemala and give money and trinkets out to the poor communities. They pity the under-privileged and give all they have. When spending time with these people, one realizes that these societies do not think they are poor and pitiful. As long as their needs are provided for, a love for God is much more important. Luxuries can get in the way of a passion for life and can draw one's attention to worldly possessions. Love is the essence of life and therefore we are to interact and care for all cultures. Every one person lives in filth, but wears a beauty in their inner self.