Mi angel guardian monta en moto…

(My guardian angel rides a motorcycle.)

I feel like it’s about time for an update anyway, so I’m glad something happened tonight to encourage me to share. I’ll start with a story from the Guarderia, and I’ll end with the story from the title of this blog.

So, I brush teeth just about every day in the daycare adjoined to the Institute where I teach English classes. It’s not the most glamorous job, and the kids can be quite exhausting some times, especially when they flood out of the classroom towards the bathroom, swinging their aseo (hygiene) kits in the air and completely disregarding the request to go en fila (in line).  To clarify, I haven’t been actually brushing their teeth, at least not for the majority of them, but rather overseeing the distribution and use of their toothbrushing kits. I dot toothpaste on forests of toothbrushes, trying to avoid smearing  outstretched arms, and I do my best to attend fairly to all the little voices calling for my attention. Well, anywho, there’s one little girl, Silvia, who always accompanies her classmates and excitedly offers to help me hold their bags. However, she’s relatively new, and until Friday, she had not received a toothbrush and cup to use. Silvia was so thrilled at the prospect of finally being able to brush her teeth with her own toothbrush like the rest. She was literally jumping up and down, pigtails bouncing around, beaming broadly in anticipation of the long-awaited opportunity.  It made me a little pleased, a little sad to see this adorable girl excited about something so mundane, something taken-for-granted in the U.S. When she finished, she flashed me a brilliant white smile and gave me an enthusiastic high five.  I hope her enthusiasm for hygiene last as she grows. 

Sunday’s reading, which I share and discuss with my two youth groups on Saturdays, made me chuckle today. In the past week, I’ve had task after task piled on my plate, and my to-list has so many things to attend to, that I really don’t know how I will be able to manage them all without direct assistance from God.  It’s also been drawn to my attention recently that I should try to read the Bible more often, in an attempt to “hear God’s voice” more clearly.  Well, illustrating God’s excellent sense of humor, today we read about María and Martha. As if it wasn’t enough to make that connection, today’s plan was also interrupted.  We were going to do a service project (cleaning out a closet in the Centro) together as a group, but then I was asked to help prepare the niños to read the lecturas the next day in mass, a special task which requires a lot of practice on their parts and a lot of careful attention on mine.  So, of course, at first, I was a little frustrated to have my cleaning and organization project postponed. But, I laughed out loud when I found myself in the position of Mary, seated at the feet my children, as they proclaimed the Word.  Despite their faulty proclamation, creating run-on sentences and tripping through the pronunciations, the lesson could hardly have been put more clearly.

Tonight after youth group, I paid a long-awaited visit to Santa Clara.  I’ve been trying to hang out with the girls who live in that Hogar on the other side of town from time to time, but the task is made more difficult because of the danger of travelling alone at night.  Although I recognized the dangers were present, I decided that, with very little time left in Montero, it was worth risking a couple moto rides to spend time with them.  Of course, I told my fellow volunteer I was heading over and tried to leave as early as possible, so as to get back at a more-or-less reasonable hour.  Nevertheless, various clinging girls intervened in my plans to hurry things along, and, before we could started our traditional movie night, the Madre began passing out the donated clothes (left by a past volunteer), which I had brought along.  Fortunately, the girls selected the shorter of the two movies I had brought for them to choose between, Toy Story 3—a bundle of laughs, by the way—I started slapping my knee quite a few times.  I left when the movie finished and started walking back towards the busier streets to catch a moto. Though there was no one suspicious around, I still felt a quite nervous striding along on my own in the dark.  I was hoping to get quickly to a corner to hail a moto, without attracting too much attention from passing cyclists, most of whom were not wearing official vests to identify themselves as taxistas. So, when a man on a moto behind me called out, “Senorita, yo la puedo llevar!,” (Miss, I can take you!) I looked back, saw that he also did not have the vest, and immediately waved my hand in dismissal, turning to move on.  When he pulled over, saying “I’m a taxista! Look, I have a vest!,” I hesitated, getting ready to run quickly if I needed to, but then I saw that he did indeed have the vest tied to the front of his bike—he must have just finished his shift.  That and his grandfatherly appearance made me comfortable enough to get on, but I still prayed Hail Mary’s as we sped through town towards the Convent, asking God to protect me for those few minutes of travel. When we arrived, I started to hand over my change, but the gentleman stopped me and said, “No, no le voy a cobrar” (No, I’m not going to charge you).  I wanted to pay him though, especially after he had offered me a safe ride out of a somewhat dangerous situation, and after his work hours, on top of that.  When I thanked him with a handshake, he didn’t respond with “No problem” or “You’re welcome.” Rather, he looked me in the eyes and said with sincerity, “I am bringing God to you tonight.” I told him I would pray for him, then entered the Convent and went straight to the chapel to thank God for sending someone to take care of me, asking for blessings on my guardian and his family.  Alabado sea el sagrado Corazon de Jesús.