Katie Elmore

Like most parents I know, I seek to teach my child life’s greatest lessons while still protecting her in a safe, comfortable environment. What could I possibly have been thinking when I decided to venture off to Central America with a ten-year old? El Salvador in August was certainly not going to be comfortable. I couldn’t even be sure it was going to be safe. Somehow, between a still, small voice in my heart, and a loving, supportive husband who understands me so well, we went anyway. My expectations were high. I was looking for life lessons, perspective, and peace. Somewhere, amidst the natural beauty, the staggering poverty, and the loving spirits of the people in Central America, I found much more than I could have ever anticipated.

I found peace.

I wanted desperately to show my daughter Christ’s lessons of love and reconciliation in our very broken world, a world that is troubling my heart. Although we remain a world at war, there is beauty in knowing we can still respond to great need with love, not violence. We respond not as Americans helping the poor, but as human beings helping human beings.

I found perspective.

Our lives of great excess are embarrassing in the face of people with so little. When my twenty-dollar tip for the hotel maid amounted to three days’ wages, I vowed to refrain from complaining about my low teaching salary. I have more than I need, not because I deserve it, but simply because I was lucky enough to be born in this place and time. Gratitude equals joy.

I found life lessons.

I am still struggling with these lessons, still churning out these deep questions in the wee hours of the night. God is being very patient with me. I’m a slow learner. Sarah and I arrived in El Salvador as a part of a friendly group of part-time mission workers, many of whom lived very normal lives but journeyed to this place year after year. I had a feeling that our lives were going to change greatly…

The children of La Casa de Mi Padre (My Father’s House) are beautiful beyond description, so loving, so trusting, so anxious to be the center of your attention. Not one infant or toddler escaped from my hugs and affections in the week we spent together. The older children, in spite of our language barrier, liked simply to be near us, often smiling and resting a head on our shoulder or reaching for our hand.

One child in particular stole my heart from the first moment I spotted him shyly peeking out at me from behind a doorway in the orphanage. Misael, with his beautiful dark eyes and precious smile, had been abandoned in a sugar cane field, left for dead at five days of age. Now, a healthy two year-old, his arms encircled my neck for most of the day. “He just needs a mom,” I kept thinking. Sarah’s fondness for babies was certainly an asset on our journey. She held them all for hours and particularly adored Leticia, a chubby-cheeked little darling who was a happy recipient of Sarah’s affections. Sarah happily dressed the babies, like living dolls, in clothes we had brought from her little cousins back home.

During one ride through the city of San Salvador, I was simply over-whelmed by the staggering poverty I witnessed: entire communities set up in median strips, houses constructed of any available scraps, tiny children sitting amongst heaps of trash.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the children of La Casa de Mi Padre were the lucky ones. They were healthy, well-fed, and safe. It is truly a sad situation when the orphans are considered fortunate.

The feeling of personal helplessness overwhelmed me as well. What can I possibly do in the face of such great need? It was Sarah, at the wise age of ten, who helped me find my answer. She patted my arm and said, “We’re just supposed to love on them, Mom.” Well, that I can do.

I thank God for bringing this life-changing opportunity our way. I thank God for those who work tirelessly for the sake of children. I thank God for the lessons He patiently teaches me. The needs of this world are so very great, and there are places closer to home where we could respond. But somehow, I know, it is the beautiful children of La Casa de Mi Padre, the children I now know by name, who will bring us back to El Salvador.

Go out into this world and “love on them.” Sounds like a benediction to me.