It was Saturday!
My husband usually has university classes all day Fridays and Saturday mornings in the capital city, a litte over two hours from where we live. He stays at his mom's house overnight, since she lives in one of the "suburbs." We try to schedule it so that every other weekend I go along and stay back on the alternating weekends. Normally, he has to leave Thursday afternoon to keep a few engagements and on the weekends I don't go along, I don't see him again until Saturday late afternoon since the bus trip takes longer.
But this weekend, oh wonder of wonders, he was able to skip Saturday classes and make it home for lunch!
He was exhausted from a whole bunch of "work/ministry/life stuff" and really needed to take the afternoon off. We've only gone out on a date twice since getting married because, when we do have those days or afternoons off, we can usually be found catching up on sleep or just being home.
So this weekend, this Saturday, we had it all planned out!
He came home early, took Saturday afternoon to catch up on sleep and mentally disconnect from all the normal demands of life, then we went to the movies and grabbed dinner afterward. We live within walking distance of the mall where the theater is located, and this was the first time we've gone to see a movie in the three months since we've moved to Higuey.
We dressed up a little (I put on heels) and even though we got there a bit late, the movie was fun and didn't disappoint.
A year and a half ago, the week we met, we had gone to the movies as a group and somehow Miguel ended up sitting next to me. The laughter and reactions of the crowd (Dominicans in theaters are not usually quiet ;) reminded me of that first time we'd gone to the movies together and that in itself brought a smile to my face.
After it ended, we ordered some take-out from the food court since everything was crowded with more people doing what we were doing - taking Saturday evening to relax, go out, and enjoy each other's company. While we were waiting for our food order to be filled, Miguel motions to someone behind me and says "She's asking us for money." I hadn't heard her because of all the noise, so I took a quick glance behind me and saw a young Haitian girl standing there waiting.
It's not uncommon to see street kids begging here. And this particular mall seems to be a hotspot in the evenings since there are so many stores, banks, and restaurants here - all meaning more people and more hope of getting a few coins.
As a habit, we don't give out money. I could explain the many reasons behind that, but it's not the point of Marly's Story. However, we didn't want to do nothing and she was still there waiting. So my husband gave me our food ticket, which was supposed to be ready any minute, while he went to order some food for her at a nearby stand that was ready-made and much faster. As we waited for a few minutes, I quietly observed the girl. She had on a dirty red shirt and old black leggings. She looked pre-adolescent, maybe middle school age. My husband came back with a tray of food for her at the same time that our ticket was called, so I handed him our bag of food, while I crouched down next to her where she sat at the small white table with her food and soft drink in front of her.
I asked her what her name was. "Marly"
How old are you?: 11
Who do you live with?: My 8 year old sister
Marly said her mom had been sent back to Haiti by the immigration police and she never knew her father. I asked a few more questions, trying to establish a personal connection with her. She didn't pull away or wince when I place my hand on her shoulder, but she was constantly looking around her nervously and never touched her food.
I expected her to get up and leave at any time - but she didn't. Every question I asked her, Marly answered. We talked a little bit about child services and how maybe they could help her find a place to live. She didn't seem scared at the idea but said they did have a place to live where they paid rent every month.
She didn't have a phone, but I scribbled my name and number on a card and told her to call me if she ever needed help or a place to go. Before getting up to leave, I asked her if she could remember my name, and she turned to me with a big smile on her face and said "You're Rosy." It was the only time she voluntarily made eye contact with me or smiled.
We left to head back home for dinner. On the ride home, and through most of dinner, we talked about the probabilities of Marly's life.
My husband is pretty sure her mother is around and using her daughter as a resource for money. If the mother did get sent back to Haiti, which is also possible, Marly and her 8 yr. old sister are on the streets fending for themselves. Marly said she'd heard of God, but she didn't know who He was or what He does. I told her that He loved her and that He was there to protect her. But what does that mean to Marly? In times like this, I am so, so, very thankful for the contacts I have to be able to offer some options. But at the same time my heart breaks because, there is no guarantee of seeing her again. Without a phone, I can't meet up with her if she never calls me. Our only optoin is to go back to the mall around the same time in the evenings and hope we spot her.
This is Marly's Story, and I hope and pray it does not end here.
The thing is, Marly is only one of so many children who find themselves in the same or similar situation. It may be more prevalent here in the DR, but I'm sure you wouldn't have to drive very far the next time you're at the movies to spot another child in a different neighborhood of another country speaking a different language but living the same life. One day at a time. Sometimes, not even that. Living in a world that is bleak and without color. Not knowing laughter or security. Never understanding true love.
What are we doing about the Marlys in our world? Because I can guarantee you they are in yours too, even when you don't want to see them.
My husband usually has university classes all day Fridays and Saturday mornings in the capital city, a litte over two hours from where we live. He stays at his mom's house overnight, since she lives in one of the "suburbs." We try to schedule it so that every other weekend I go along and stay back on the alternating weekends. Normally, he has to leave Thursday afternoon to keep a few engagements and on the weekends I don't go along, I don't see him again until Saturday late afternoon since the bus trip takes longer.
But this weekend, oh wonder of wonders, he was able to skip Saturday classes and make it home for lunch!
He was exhausted from a whole bunch of "work/ministry/life stuff" and really needed to take the afternoon off. We've only gone out on a date twice since getting married because, when we do have those days or afternoons off, we can usually be found catching up on sleep or just being home.
So this weekend, this Saturday, we had it all planned out!
He came home early, took Saturday afternoon to catch up on sleep and mentally disconnect from all the normal demands of life, then we went to the movies and grabbed dinner afterward. We live within walking distance of the mall where the theater is located, and this was the first time we've gone to see a movie in the three months since we've moved to Higuey.
We dressed up a little (I put on heels) and even though we got there a bit late, the movie was fun and didn't disappoint.
A year and a half ago, the week we met, we had gone to the movies as a group and somehow Miguel ended up sitting next to me. The laughter and reactions of the crowd (Dominicans in theaters are not usually quiet ;) reminded me of that first time we'd gone to the movies together and that in itself brought a smile to my face.
After it ended, we ordered some take-out from the food court since everything was crowded with more people doing what we were doing - taking Saturday evening to relax, go out, and enjoy each other's company. While we were waiting for our food order to be filled, Miguel motions to someone behind me and says "She's asking us for money." I hadn't heard her because of all the noise, so I took a quick glance behind me and saw a young Haitian girl standing there waiting.
It's not uncommon to see street kids begging here. And this particular mall seems to be a hotspot in the evenings since there are so many stores, banks, and restaurants here - all meaning more people and more hope of getting a few coins.
As a habit, we don't give out money. I could explain the many reasons behind that, but it's not the point of Marly's Story. However, we didn't want to do nothing and she was still there waiting. So my husband gave me our food ticket, which was supposed to be ready any minute, while he went to order some food for her at a nearby stand that was ready-made and much faster. As we waited for a few minutes, I quietly observed the girl. She had on a dirty red shirt and old black leggings. She looked pre-adolescent, maybe middle school age. My husband came back with a tray of food for her at the same time that our ticket was called, so I handed him our bag of food, while I crouched down next to her where she sat at the small white table with her food and soft drink in front of her.
 |
| Will she ever know a life filled with color? |
I asked her what her name was. "Marly"
How old are you?: 11
Who do you live with?: My 8 year old sister
Marly said her mom had been sent back to Haiti by the immigration police and she never knew her father. I asked a few more questions, trying to establish a personal connection with her. She didn't pull away or wince when I place my hand on her shoulder, but she was constantly looking around her nervously and never touched her food.
I expected her to get up and leave at any time - but she didn't. Every question I asked her, Marly answered. We talked a little bit about child services and how maybe they could help her find a place to live. She didn't seem scared at the idea but said they did have a place to live where they paid rent every month.
She didn't have a phone, but I scribbled my name and number on a card and told her to call me if she ever needed help or a place to go. Before getting up to leave, I asked her if she could remember my name, and she turned to me with a big smile on her face and said "You're Rosy." It was the only time she voluntarily made eye contact with me or smiled.
We left to head back home for dinner. On the ride home, and through most of dinner, we talked about the probabilities of Marly's life.
My husband is pretty sure her mother is around and using her daughter as a resource for money. If the mother did get sent back to Haiti, which is also possible, Marly and her 8 yr. old sister are on the streets fending for themselves. Marly said she'd heard of God, but she didn't know who He was or what He does. I told her that He loved her and that He was there to protect her. But what does that mean to Marly? In times like this, I am so, so, very thankful for the contacts I have to be able to offer some options. But at the same time my heart breaks because, there is no guarantee of seeing her again. Without a phone, I can't meet up with her if she never calls me. Our only optoin is to go back to the mall around the same time in the evenings and hope we spot her.
This is Marly's Story, and I hope and pray it does not end here.
The thing is, Marly is only one of so many children who find themselves in the same or similar situation. It may be more prevalent here in the DR, but I'm sure you wouldn't have to drive very far the next time you're at the movies to spot another child in a different neighborhood of another country speaking a different language but living the same life. One day at a time. Sometimes, not even that. Living in a world that is bleak and without color. Not knowing laughter or security. Never understanding true love.
What are we doing about the Marlys in our world? Because I can guarantee you they are in yours too, even when you don't want to see them.
