It's My Life Read online

  And so we all sit in a circle (right there in the gross dirt that fringes the dump), and the children cooperate beautifully. (I'm sure to show their appreciation for the food and in the hope that there might be more.) So we sing several songs (in Español, no less), ones that Beanie and I learned at the preschool, and then we teach them a couple of finger-plays that we did with the preschoolers each day. This seems to delight the children, and one little girl (I'm pretty sure she is a girl because she seems to have on what may have once been a dress) actually climbs into my lap. And–here's the miracle–I don't really mind. (Okay, maybe a little at first, but then I am all right, really!) Then I mentally count the heads in our circle of children and realize there will not be enough fruit for everyone to have their own piece, so I know we need to divide it up.

  I explain my concern to Beanie, and we both reach into the bag and each take out an orange and begin peeling. The children watch us with wide, hungry eyes as we separate the orange sections, juice dripping on our hands. Then one by one, we hand the pieces out to the kids. We do this over and over until all the fruit is gone. Then I show the children the empty bag and hold up my hands saying, “No hay más.”

  So then we're not really sure what to do next. We stand up with the kids all clamoring around us, like they don't want us to leave or are hoping we'll pull another bag of food out of the car. And that's when I notice several suspicious (and I must admit sinister) looking men gathered nearby, standing just outside the circle of children, and probably wondering what two gringo girls are doing out at the garbage dump and alone. And that's when it occurs to me that they may think nothing of mugging and robbing us and throwing us onto the garbage heap as they make off with our little car. I mean, after all, these people have absolutely nothing, and like Alex said, some are serious drug addicts who'll do just about anything for their next hit. So now my heart's starting to race as one of the men begins to move closer, a dark look in his eye. And then, all of a sudden, I just start singing “Jesus Loves Me” again, and I reach out to take the hands of the two kids nearest to me. And Beanie, who I can see has also become aware of this potential danger, follows my lead, and pretty soon we're all holding hands in this little circle and singing for all we're worth. And it's really pretty cool. The kids are having a good time.

  And that's when I look, and I really see these little upturned and dirty faces of these same children who had so appalled and disgusted me only one week ago. And today, I swear, they look just like angels. Well, maybe I'm just so overwhelmed with fear that I'm actually hallucinating, I don't know for sure. But when I look at what I'd seen before as dump kids with their shaved heads and dirt-encrusted faces, all I can see now are these beautiful dark-eyed angel children. And I'm just totally humbled and astonished. And I think to myself, is it possible that God is allowing me to see them the way He does? Could that even be? I mean, it's almost like supernatural or something totally unearthly. I still get goose bumps just thinking about it.

  But, okay, here's another really weird thing about this little event: I don't even remember how Beanie and I moved away from the circle of children, climbed back into the car, and then drove safely away from the dump. I mean, I can't actually remember finding the keys, starting the engine, or anything. And she doesn't either! Pretty weird, huh? But somehow we did. And if you ask me, I'd say it was a total miracle! In fact, the whole thing at the dump from beginning to end just seemed like one great, big wonderful miracle. I totally give God the credit and thank Him for it!

  Not only that, but Beanie and I plan to go back to the dump as many times as possible during the next three days. And (I haven't told Beanie or anyone else) I plan to use my own spending money to buy some food and things for those kids. But we decided the next time we go, we'll invite Alex and anyone else who wants to come along too. Miracles like this must be meant to share!

  Thursday, August 23 (one more day at the mission)

  I can't believe we have only one more full day at the mission (tomorrow). I remember how when I first got here, I was so freaked that I'd wimp out and they'd have to ship me home, and now I don't even want to leave at all. We've been to the dump two more times since that last visit (both times zach came too!). And while nothing so incredibly miraculous has happened, it was still fun seeing the kids. They know us by name now, and I can tell they really appreciate our visits. Alex and I went into town today, and I used my own money to get food (two whole boxes of staples including lots of peanut butter), and Alex has promised to take just a little out at a time. He's worried if we take the whole thing out there, some of the adults will confiscate it from the kids and go trade it for drugs. So I agreed to let him handle it. I also promised to raise more money at home to send for this specific purpose. And Alex promised to find someone who could continue this when he goes back to college in the fall. (I learned through someone else that he's a Stanford premed student, but he spends his vacation times down here–pretty impressive if you ask me.)

  We'll have one last visit to the dump tomorrow, and Zach says he won't miss it for anything. On the first day he went out, I was so impressed with how he just reached out and shook their dirty little hands without even pausing. I still feel guilty to think how badly I reacted at first. But then, I'm only human, and God sure helped me get over my fears.

  Beanie and I have been checking each other for lice every night (after we take our showers and thoroughly wash our hair). Tricia and Andrea tease us without mercy, saying we look like a couple of apes picking parasites from each other, but we've yet to find an actual sign of lice or anything. And I'm a little miffed with Andrea for not wanting to come out to the dump with us. Tricia can't help it since she's desperately needed in the kitchen at that time of the afternoon. But I thought, at least Andrea and Josh could make a better effort. I mean, all they've done is work on construction sites, and even though I know they're working hard, and Andrea keeps complaining about all her blisters and aches and pains, it just doesn't seem to me they've had all that much contact with the people. But I suppose that's kind of judgmental on my part. So I won't bug them anymore.

  Saturday, August 25 (adios, amigos)

  I can't believe we're done with our mission. Where did the time go? And how will we ever know if what we contributed really made a difference or not? And who will feed the dump kids after Alex leaves next month? And who will hold my little Rosa and count her fingers and toes for her every morning and make her laugh? Oh, I'm so incredibly sad. I'm just keeping my nose in this diary and pretending to be all absorbed in my writing, and yet I can barely see the words because my eyes are so blurred with tears and the pages are getting too soggy to even write upon.

  OH, DEAR GOD, PLEASE HELP YOUR CHILDREN. PLEASE HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS. PLEASE FEED THEM AND SHOW THEM HOW MUCH YOU LOVE THEM. AMEN.

  (later the same day)

  I am feeling a little less blue now. Beanie and Zach have been good medicine for me. They understand. Perhaps even better than I do. Because I know both of them have come from difficult home lives. I guess growing up in a fairly secure and happy home, I just didn't fully realize how much pain and suffering there is in this world. But like Zach keeps pointing out, those kids weren't unhappy (at least the ones in the orphanage). And the dump kids weren't really all that unhappy either, they were just hungry and so glad to get food, and they probably will have brighter days ahead. In fact, I'm sure they will because I will not rest unless they do!

  And here's something that surprised me yesterday–who do you think joined us to go to the dump? Josh Miller! Yes, at the last minute he came running over and climbed into the backseat next to me and said, “Let's go.” But I'm sure he had no idea what he was letting himself in for, and once we were there and he saw what we'd already become accustomed to, I noticed the same look on his face that I'd worn a week ago. I tried not laugh at him or appear smug because I will never forget that feeling as long as I live. But a little part of me was glad or relieved or whatever that someone else was feeling
it too. And even though he tried to be helpful, he mostly just stood around with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. And I'm sure back at the compound he took a really long shower too. But I'll spare his dignity that much and not ask him about it. Still, I'm glad he made the effort to come. It's something we all need to see, even if only once.

  So now, back to reality. After hours of driving, we've crossed the border back into the good, ol’ U. S. of A. (And let me tell you, I'm glad to be coming home again–this is one great country we live in, and I know I didn't fully appreciate it before seeing how others live.)

  But now, of all things, we're stopping at Disneyland for the rest of the day and evening. Of course, we all knew this was our big reward after the mission was accomplished, but somehow it just doesn't seem quite as exciting as it did a few weeks ago. I mean, talk about your harsh contrasts–starving garbage dump kids, then Mickey and Minnie dancing down the immaculate streets of Disneyland! Of course, my dismay might also have something to do with the fact that I've only got a couple of bucks left to spend. Oh well, at least my ticket to get in is already purchased. Greg took care of that before we ever left home. And have I mentioned that I do miss home? A lot! I miss Mom and Dad and even Ben (in fact, I miss Ben quite a bit!). Will wonders never cease!

  TEN

  Sunday, August 26 (on the road again)

  Well, I must admit the fireworks show was totally incredible. But to tell you the truth, I felt a little overwhelmed when we first walked into Disneyland today. I mean, everything is so perfect and clean–so vastly different from Mexico. It was like we were on this totally different planet. But it was a great relief to me that I wasn't the only one aware of this difference. In fact, we were getting a bite to eat at (of all things) a Mexican restaurant (Zach and Beanie generously bought me some food after teasing me for having spent all my case–I didn't tell them what I'd spent it on) when I noticed an overflowing trash can with plates still half full of untouched food. “Wouldn't the dump kids just love that?” I said, and we all started laughing. Except for Andrea, that is. She just looked at me with disgust and said, “Don't be so gross, Cate; some of us are trying to eat here.” I glanced at Beanie and we both rolled our eyes. Okay, there I go again passing judgment. (God, forgive me.) But sometimes…

  Anyway, I couldn't help but notice Josh's expression when this all transpired. He didn't say a word, but I could tell he was thinking real hard about something. I'm pretty sure that his visit to the dump yesterday did something in him. And another thing I noticed is that he and Andrea don't seem to be such an item anymore. They haven't even sat together in the bus or anything. And today we're all just hanging together as one group–no coupling off. In fact, maybe that's why Andrea is being such a grump today. I feel kind of bad because it seems like she might've missed out on something important. And I don't mean Josh! mean something that the rest of us may have discovered in Mexico, something we found at the dump. But I could be all wrong about this too. Who knows?

  Well, I better turn off the light and go to sleep. We're staying in a Motel Six tonight, but at least they have a pool and we all got to cool off before bed. It's after one in the morning, we're supposed to be out of here by seven, and my stomach's rumbling. I wonder if I'll have to beg for food tomorrow. But you know what? I don't really care. I think I should go hungry more often, if only to remind myself of how those kinds at the dump feel. So even if I don't get to eat a single thing tomorrow, it'll be okay. At least I get to do to go home where there's food in the cupboards and fridge. Gee, how lucky can a girl be?

  THANKS, GOD, FOR TAKING CARE OF ME. PLEASE WATCH OVER THE KIDS AT THE DUMP. AMEN.

  Monday, August 27 (close to home)

  I can't wait to get home and take a shower and sleep in my own bed. Suddenly I'm realizing how many good things I take for granted every day. Hopefully, I'll be more appreciative of all the “luxuries” we enjoy each day.

  This morning, Josh asked if he could sit with me on the bus. And I could tell by his troubled expression that he was just looking for a friend to talk to, so I said sure, and then asked him if something was bugging him. He kind of shrugged like he didn't really know what to say, so I gave it a shot. “Let me guess,” I said. “Are you feeling bad after your visit to the garbage dump the other day?”

  He turned and looked at me like I was some sort of genius or clairvoyant or something and said, “Yeah, I just can't get the images of those little kids out of my mind.”

  “I know.” I sighed deeply, trying to decide how much of my own feelings I wanted to reveal here, but finally continued. “The first time I went out there it really upset me too. In fact, to be honest, the filth and smell and the way the kids looked actually disgusted me. But at the same time I felt totally rotten for reacting like that–”

  “Yeah, that's exactly how I feel.”

  “So I prayed about it and went out again, and God helped me to see those kids in a whole new light.” Well, Josh seemed pretty intrigued, and we had nothing but time to kill, so I decided to tell him the whole story about Beanie and me and the bag of fruit and the malicious looking men. I tried to make it sound sort of humorous, but Josh could see I was serious and I could tell he was really interested.

  “That's really cool, Catie.” And then he smiled his brilliant Matt Damon smile, and I didn't even start a meltdown. “Thanks for sharing that. You know, I feel so bad for those kids–I mean, I didn't even realize they were there until that last day–and now I just wish I could do something–to help, you know?”

  “I know. I feel the same way. Hey, did you get to meet Alex?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he stopped by the construction site a couple times. Seems like a nice guy.”

  So then I told him about how Alex was going to find someone to regularly oversee some sort of food program for the kids out there and how I planned to find some ways to send money to help out.

  “I haven't really told anyone about this yet,” I explained. “In fact, I'm not even sure what I'll do. I just know I've got to do something. Maybe through church or more car washes or whatever. I just feel like I need to do this.”

  “I'd like to help too,” said Josh. “I'm not exactly sure how either, especially when I'm heading off to college next week. But I'll see what I can do. And maybe, if you don't mind, I could just send whatever I can pull together your way, and maybe you could sort of manage it for me, if that's okay.”

  “Sure,” I offered. “Anything to help the kids.”

  “I wish I'd known about that whole thing sooner,” he continued. “I would've tried to help out while we were there.”

  “Well, I tried to tell you guys, but you and Andrea seemed to be in a little world of your own.” I know that was uncalled for, and it wasn't exactly jealousy talking (okay, maybe it was a little), but his next words just totally knocked me over.

  “Yeah, that whole thing with Andrea was pretty moronic too. And I know I've hurt her feelings by getting involved with her during this trip and then just chilling out on her at the end. I feel really lousy about it.”

  Well, try as I might, I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

  “I can just imagine what you're thinking, Catie, like how dating is so stupid and we should all do what you're doing and no one would get hurt. But what if some of us aren't that strong?”

  That made me laugh. “You think I'm strong? Now that's a good one.”

  “Well, how else do you manage to abstain from all this? I'm pretty positive you're not gay.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

  I socked him in the arm but gently. “It has nothing to do with being strong, Josh. It's a promise I made to God, but He's helping me to keep it. And when I see how messed up things get for couples like, say, Beanie and Zach–”

  He glanced at where the two were sitting ahead of us, playing some card game on the seat between them.

  “They seem to be doing okay now.”

  “Yeah, now. But they were pretty messed up just a month ago. And I know
that Beanie has no intention of ever going back there again.”

  “So, has she given up dating too?”

  I thought about that. “I don't really feel like it's my place to say. You should ask her. But I know she's learned a lot and made some pretty big commitments to God.”

  I glanced over to Andrea who had her head down, and I knew she was hurting. In fact, I could remember exactly how she felt, and I suppose this emboldened me to say the next words. “You know, Josh, you're a really attractive guy–”

  “Gee, thanks.” He grinned.

  I punched him in the arm again and then continued. “Let me make my point, okay? You know that girls are attracted to you, right?” He nodded. “And I'm sure you enjoy that.”

  “Yeah. Is anything wrong with that? I've seen guys giving you a second look and you don't seem to mind.”

  “Yeah, yeah, let me finish. But the difference is you look back. And then you get involved–well, you say you get involved, but the truth is, you're really not involved–or at least your heart isn't–”

  “Hey, that's not fair. How do you know what's going on in my heart?”