Anyone who has ever entered Love & Hope Children’s Home has probably heard one of our 20-plus children calling, “Tia Mila!” Mila has been a Love & Hope fixture for many years, and just last week Mila retired after nine years of service at Love & Hope to care for herself and her family.

Mila clearly saw working at Love & Hope Children’s Home as more than a job. She was constantly moving, playing, cleaning, teaching, interacting, and helping. Her work never seemed to end and yet Mila was always cheerful, overflowing, and bubbling with joy. She is an example to the children and adults at Love & Hope of a person who picks up her cross everyday and seeks to serve God with all of her might.

 

Here in El Salvador, Semana Santa (Holy Week) coincides with a weeklong break from school. We had a great time with the kids waking up a little later, doing Easter activities, and leaving the house for special outings! On Good Friday, as in past years, we decided to participate in the Central American tradition of making Easter alfombras or rugs. Before making our own alfombras, we walked into Los Planes de Renderos to admire the handiwork of more experienced rug makers.

Alfombras and the processions that precede and follow them are a huge tradition in the Central American Catholic church. One of the biggest displays can be found in Antigua, Guatemala. The alfombras we saw in Los Planes were made of colored salt and sawdust. The images they depicted mainly featured Easter scenes and Bible verses.

It was interesting to watch the different methods used to create the alfombras. Some people sifted the dust and sprinkled it onto the street. Others used rulers and wood barriers to make precise, sharp lines. One alfombra was the recreation of a piece of artwork. Some were made of salt and others of sawdust; the colors were varied and vibrant.

After seeing the alfombras, we walked home to create our own. Earlier in the day, we had used dye to color salt. Before making the alfombras, everyone drew out a plan with sidewalk chalk. Then it was time to fill in between the lines. The kids really made an effort to create a beautiful piece of artwork and the adults joined in too.

When we finished, everyone stepped back to admire their work. The little ones were especially proud of the job they did! We hope your Holy Week and Easter were as blessed as ours. He is risen!

Last year, we got to know Robert Gray, a retired physical education teacher for special needs children. We were excited that he was again available to come hang out with us at Love & Hope Children’s Home a couple times a week for the last two months.

Robert specializes in rigging up interesting toys and fun therapy equipment out of everyday materials. Last year, Robert made a set of parallel cables on the terrace that one of our children with special needs could use to practice walking. The cables offered support, but also challenged our child to strengthen his muscles and balance. During his time at Love & Hope this year, Robert re-worked the walking cables and he used a loose material that really offers no support as one is walking (but looks like it). It is a trick! Our child’s balance and strength have improved over the last year to the point that he can do it!

Robert also made us a tool bench and lock box. This new piece of equipment will be helpful, to be sure, but we are mainly impressed and grateful for Robert’s talent at including the kids in construction. Even some of our more challenging kids worked perfectly alongside Robert, helping him measure and cut, listening to every word he said.

Sometimes the best toys are non-toys. Any parent knows this; the box can be more fun than the toy inside. Robert is great at making non-toys. For example, he took an air pump, mounted it to a small plastic chair and attached a punch balloon to the end. He invited the little children to sit in the chair and blow up the balloon. In order to do so, they had to quickly sit and stand multiple times on the air pump. What great exercise!  

It was fun to watch the special relationship that Robert shares with “T”, the main beneficiary of his concoctions. When Robert entered the house, T seemed to know it right away and would call his name. Besides the therapy equipment that Robert made, he also took time to walk around with T, teach him to do a head-stand, encourage him, motivate him and help him get stronger. Robert’s constant reminder to T was, “Equilibrio, señor!” “Balance, sir!” Their matching sunny personalities and determination are perhaps the reason they get along so well!

Thanks for investing your talents and time at Love & Hope Children’s Home, Robert! Your smile and willingness to serve brightens our day every time!

Today Love & Hope Children’s Home wants to share one last post from the viewpoint of a recent visitor: Dr. David Eastman of Ohio Weslyan University (OWU). His first two posts can be found here and here. The Ohio Weslyan team was able to experience all of the facets of our ministry:

In this final post, I want to focus on a few particular experiences and then reflect on the trip overall.

On Tuesday we went out to visit the community of Platanillo, which people from Love in Hope visit on a weekly basis. It is a community of dispossessed people. They all lost their homes to natural disasters or by other means and were moved out to this location with the promise of a home and property. We drove through a small town to the end of the paved road, and then we started on a road of dirt, mud, and rock. After about 10 minutes, we arrived at this small community of dwellings. Some had brick walls and a tin roof, but most had tin sides or even scraps of fabric hanging to make the walls. Rachel told us that after 7 years of waiting, the people had just recently been given the deeds to their property. But this community was very isolated from the world around it. As we drove through the streets of dirt and rock, children recognized that the Love and Hope team was arriving, and they ran to greet Rachel and Kirsten. From all directions, I could see little clouds of dust rushing toward us, preceded by the smiling faces of children. The center of activity was the church – a pole barn open on 3 sides. Rachel greeted the children and then took us for a tour of the community. I have seen severe poverty in the inner city in the United States and Europe, but nothing prepared me for what I saw there. I had walked into the middle of a scene from one of those television commercials that appeal for aid to help starving children in other parts of the world. And there I was. The ancient Greeks believed that the guts were the center of the emotions, and I could not avoid the wrenching, twisting force in my own guts of sadness mixed with helplessness. For their part, the children had no inhibitions and greeted us warmly. One little girl walked right up and grabbed the hand of a member of our group. They walked together through the settlement, and no words were exchanged. They didn’t have to be. These children seemed so full of joy that it was almost easy to lose sight of the poverty around us. But that convenient amnesia evaporated when it came time to distribute food packets – and by food packets I mean bags of rice. People from the village had gathered and lined up for food: 1 bag for each child, 2 bags for each adult. Rachel asked me to do the distribution, and one of the local boys came to my side to help. Now my guts kicked into high gear, radiating anger at economic injustice, despair at the scope of the problem and the plight of these people, and guilt at how I, as an American, might unwittingly be contributing to the problem. I felt physically ill and disoriented, and it was all I could do to stay focused and keep counting food packets as I handed them out. A game of tag with a few of the kids (in which I fared far worse than I might have hoped) finally roused me from my state just before we got back into the vans, and then we were on our way – leaving the dust, the rocks, the children behind. And yet I cannot leave them behind. I still see their faces, their smiles, their joy, but also their need. Thankfully, the staff at Love and Hope are dedicated to loving and serving them faithfully and consistently, but there is so much more to be done. When I now look at the photos from that day, it all comes back to me. I am haunted by the insoluble discomfort that results from coming face to face with this kind of poverty. I cannot escape it, and I hope this discomfort sinks its talons deep enough into my soul that I will never forget and can never forget.

Our last day there brought more levity, thankfully. We began with a visit to two cathedrals in central San Salvador. The “Dr. Eastman Geek Alarm” was going off repeatedly, as I spent way too much of everyone’s time talking about the details of the architecture and iconography in the churches we visited. It was very, very interesting. (One team member even accused me of almost skipping at one point because I was so excited. In my defense, skipping and galloping are NOT the same thing.) They finally pried me away, and we headed out of town to Playa El Tunco, a beautiful beach on the Pacific about 20 miles from San Salvador. It’s a favorite spot for surfers, and understandably so. It was very good for the team to unwind a bit. After all, this was their spring break. We came back into San Salvador to meet the kids from the home for a party at Pizza Hut. This was amusing. Our team arrived before the bus with the kids, and a few of us waited around in the seating area, which was by the kids’ play area. There were only 4 or 5 kids going up and sliding down, and all the parents seemed relaxed. They did not know . . . that the bus was on its way. Mandy predicted that the other parents would freak out, and that they did. The kids from Love and Hope behaved perfectly well, but the sudden onslaught set off parental panic. You’d have thought a pack of hyenas had been let loose in the play area by the way some of the moms reacted. Soon enough order was restored by the arrival of the pizza, and the kids sat scattered around a number of tables with members of our team. I think many of us suddenly had the sinking feeling that we were just now getting to know the kids more, yet this was our last night there. This realization only brought into sharper focus how much we had enjoyed our time at Love and Hope with the kids and the staff.

How do I sum up my thoughts looking back on all this? There are so many stories yet to tell and to process. I still need more distance and perspective, yet I also fear distance and perspective, because they have a way of sucking us back into old patterns of toiling in fields of too little importance – fields that we deceive ourselves into thinking are profound, because we live in a society satisfied with the ephemeral. I do not want to forget what I have experienced. God, help me not to forget.

I am thankful to OWU for its support of this trip, to my OWU teammates for their great attitudes, and especially to the staff at Love and Hope for modeling hearts of compassion mixed with enough grit to keep serving, tirelessly, on behalf of the children. I admire you deeply.

Love & Hope Children’s Home would like to thank OWU for its dedication to the jobs it completed while visiting El Salvador. Their hard work was second-to-none! We felt so blessed and encouraged by them personally and look forward to enjoying their company again next year. ¡Gracias OWU!

Dr. David Eastman of Ohio Weslyan University (OWU) continues his reflection about OWU’s recent trip to Love & Hope Children’s Home. (The first installment can be found here.)

In addition to helping with the children at the home, our group was also scheduled to do some painting in the emergency room at a hospital just down the road. We were going to be painting Monday through Wednesday, but at night from 7 to midnight, when the ER was expected to be less busy. One of our student leaders, Katie Jacob, and I went with Rachel and Mandy from Love and Hope to meet Dr. Santana, the head of ER, before going to get paint and supplies. What a difference from a hospital here in the States! We walked into the ER directly from outside through an open entryway about 15 feet wide. There was no door, only an iron gate that was always left open. One entire wall was covered with windows, and they were all wide open. This was no sterilized American hospital with no fresh air. This was basically open air medicine. We returned on Monday night with our team of 10 OWU painters and Mandy. Try as we did, there was no way to prepare ourselves for working in a fully-operational ER. The patients were equally unprepared for watching 11 crazy Americanos moving furniture, climbing on ladders, and painting. I spent most of my time on the 10-foot ladder doing trim along the ceiling, and never did I look down and fail to find at least one person staring up at me in bewilderment and/or bemusement. I actually hate painting – I do. I would rather watch reruns of C-SPAN or a marathon of Barney the purple dinosaur. But knowing that we were serving the community was great motivation, and I was happy to provide entertainment for those awaiting treatment. The doctors and patients moved around us seamlessly, not bothered or complaining about our presence. In fact at one point I was painting near the trauma corner (a corner of the ER surrounded by a curtain where they put the most critical patients), and the doctor asked me to hand him some medical supplies. On another occasion I had my ladder set up to paint above the entryway that led outside to the bathroom. (Yes, patients had to go outside to the bathroom, and it was, frankly, disgusting.) Did my ladder bother anyone? No, they all just ducked underneath it and went on their way. All the doctors were thankful we were there and helped us move tables, beds, and even people so that we could paint. Even the patients happily got up and moved their chairs when they saw that we needed to get to a certain part of the room. We did a lot of laughing about that.

But it wasn’t all fun and games. This was a working ER, so we saw everything that came through the front door – uncensored. There was blood, urine, vomit, women going into labor, loud moaning, a guy rolled out of a police truck in handcuffs, and just plain misery. This was probably the hardest part for members of our team. As much as we found levity in some things we saw, the reality was that everyone who came in was there because they or a loved one were in pain. One man brought in his young grandson and sat with him in his arms for hours, waiting for treatment. A middle-aged woman sat in the trauma corner next to her aged mother, who had the pallid look on her face that does not suggest recovery. The concern and fear I saw in their eyes was every bit as real as what I’ve had in my eyes when one of my family members has been ill. This was as real as it gets. By the time Wednesday rolled around, some team members were really struggling with going back one more time. I understood. We rallied around the theme of simply serving others, even if we may not see some dramatic and immediate impact. That night we finished the walls in the main waiting room and 4 side treatment rooms – everything we had hoped to get done, in fact. The team left Wednesday night exhausted but with a sense of accomplishment. On Thursday Mandy and I went back and did the lettering identifying the various treatment rooms, and the job was done, at least for now. Many times on Wednesday night and Thursday, I gazed back into the observation rooms, which we did not get to but the doctors had hoped we might. They looked even more run down than the rooms we had painted, and I found myself wishing I had more time . . . more time. On Friday our team stopped by the hospital and had the chance to see the final product and meet Dr. Santana, who was very grateful. “It’s like heaven,” he told Mandy at one point. The meeting and picture-taking with Dr. Santana made no more sense to the curious ER patients than the painting had, but it was a nice time for closure for the group and, I hope, some happy images to balance other things we had witnessed in that place.

I also took on some projects at Love and Hope itself, and one of these was cleaning and organizing the garage. Okay, so true confessions. The garage at our house needs cleaning, but I have a hard time getting motivated to do it. Somehow cleaning someone else’s garage was much easier. Isn’t that always the way it is? And this was something Mandy was really hoping would get done. So I took it on and chipped away at it over the course of the week. I found all kinds of little “treasures” along the way. Now, I’m a person who likes to throw things away as a I clean, but Mandy warned me that Salvadorans are very creative re-users, and that the guards may take things out of the garbage that I would try to throw away. She was not kidding. After all, who was I to say that a broken coffee maker didn’t have a higher purpose? One of the guards was different, though: Daniel. Daniel seemed happy to see me cleaning the garage. He mainly kept his distance at first, but he also didn’t stop me from throwing useless and broken things away. He said only a few words to me, but Mandy commented to Rachel a few days into my time there that she thought Daniel must like me, because he usually doesn’t talk that much to anyone. Finally Friday came, my last chance to finish the garage. I was fully locked and loaded into “finish the project” mode, because a partially-cleaned garage is still a dirty garage. I knew the word “basura” (trash), and I managed to enter that mystical place called the “basura zone” – whether I was in the body or not I cannot say (shout out to the apostle Paul). Daniel watched me for a while and then finally came up to me and started talking. I can understand some Spanish, and body language told me all the rest. He was happy that I was cleaning, because sometimes people would just throw things into the garage and not pay attention to keeping it clean. After that I noticed Daniel beginning to pick up some things and throw them away himself. I had found an ally. Before long I would pull out some broken old auto part and look at Daniel. He would scowl and point his thumb toward the garbage cans: “Basura.” You’re speakin’ my language, brother. I was nearing the end of the project as Daniel was about to go off duty. I wouldn’t see him again. I didn’t catch most of what he said to me next, except that he said he was glad to meet me. Then he came up and gave me a big hug. I’ve never been hugged for cleaning a garage before. It was a beautiful moment shared by two men and their beloved garbage cans.

But have no fear, good reader, for the fate of those discarded items. The garbage men sort through the trash when they pick it up, looking for things to save, so I’m sure that junk has found a home in someone else’s garage.

Now I can’t wait for Mandy to come back to Ohio for a visit, so that she can come and clean our garage.

Our garage certainly looks better! We were so impressed by David’s dedication to the job. David will share with us once more about OWU’s time at Love & Hope. Stop back later this week!

This week’s posts will be written by Dr. David Eastman, assistant professor of religion at Ohio Weslyan University (OWU). A group composed of eight OWU students and two faculty members visited Love & Hope Children’s Home last week, their main task being to paint the emergency room of our local hospital. Read a summary of their entire trip here. David (he wouldn’t let us call him Dr. Eastman) shares his thoughts about the first 24 hours of their trip below.

In the pre-dawn hours of a Sunday morning, the air is abuzz with the sounds of animals – thousands of cicadas and their constant buzz (announcing the approach of Easter, according to local lore), various birds, and roosters. Oh, the roosters. I have it on good authority from cereal boxes and children’s books that roosters are supposed to crow to wake up the farmer in the morning. Will someone please buy these guys a watch? They kept me up half the night. Otherwise, all is calm as I gaze out over the valley below. The trucks and buses have not started, so the pervasive bouquet of diesel fuel has yet to fill the air. And the house is quiet. Our team members are recovering from yesterday’s early, eventful, and long day of travel to get here and be introduced to the home. (We almost missed our flight out of Columbus, so things got off to a roaring start.) The staff of Love and Hope is still asleep, enjoying a weekend day that does not start with waking up the kids at 4 a.m. to get them ready for school. My mind is awash with impressions and images, and one thing has struck me already: the work here never stops. I think in terms of systems and am overwhelmed by the sheer logistical challenge of managing all the moving parts. So many things have to happen on a daily basis, and from my conversation with Rachel and Kirsten at dinner last night, it’s clear that no two days are the same. Many of the children have particular needs that put substantial pressure on the staff to be, literally it seems, two places at once. Even when the kids are in the house, as they were yesterday, they’re still kids, and that means they need help and sometimes correction. I’ve been in a number of care facilities in my life, and I’ve learned how to spot right away staff members who put on a good show when outsiders visit but slack off otherwise. There is none of that here, and the key ingredient that I have already observed is love. The staff of Love and Hope truly love these children, and the children know it and respond to it. You can see in a child’s eye the look that says, “Even in my craziness, I know I am loved – deeply and unconditionally.” And sadly, you can also see the look of a child that is denied that sense of being loved. These children are loved. 

I didn’t know what to expect when I came down here, but as I await the sunrise I feel my heart being warmed for the work and the workers here – and also strangely pricked for the same. I sense that God is preparing me for something.

Catch-up with us again later this week to hear more about the OWU trip from David’s perspective. In the meantime, consider planning your own trip to Love & Hope Children’s Home by joining a team. Start your journey by visiting our website!

In an effort to align more with a Salvadoran law titled LEPINA (Ley de Protección de la Niñez y Adolescencia), Love & Hope Children’s Home will be no longer post identifying photos of our children on the Internet. LEPINA is a relatively new law to El Salvador and was drafted in the interest of protecting children and adolescents. The law has affected Love & Hope Children’s Home in several ways and we are trying our best to make our policies and procedures fall within its parameters.

Over the next few weeks, we will be removing photos from our website, blog and facebook page that could be used to identify our children. This mainly means photos and portraits that show their entire face. Unfortunately, our posts in the future will be less photo-driven, but we hope to be a little more creative in our picture taking so that our supporters can still connect with us via our blog and facebook pages. We like sharing our daily life with you and plan to do so the best we can!

If you are a sponsor of a specific child and would like to receive photos from time-to-time (beyond our mailings), send an email to contact@loveandhopechildrenshome.com with your name and your sponsored child’s name. We would be happy to connect you to your sponsored child in a more private manner. We also invite everyone to join our email list to receive updates. You can do this by clicking here.

We also would like to ask that those who know our children personally or have visited Love & Hope Children’s Home in the past to refrain from “tagging” or posting your personal photos to the LoveHope Kids profile or Love & Hope Children’s Home page on facebook. Please also refrain from naming children in descriptions or comments.

Maintaining the privacy of our children is a team effort! We appreciate the understanding of our supporters and facebook friends. If you have any questions regarding our desire to adhere to LEPINA in the way we are using social media, please feel free to send an email to contact@loveandhopechildrenshome.com.

For the last few years, some of our children have participated in the spelling bee at CEFAS Biligual School. Here’s the catch: the spelling bee is in English! For the last month, our two participants have been practicing two times a week. Since we also have some native English speakers to spare at the house, we have been sending helpers when possible.

At times, the spelling words have taken everyone by surprise. Could you correctly spell harmonious, erstwhile, buccaneer, romanticism or augurs if you under pressure and in front of a judge? Probably yes, but now imagine being in 7th grade and memorizing those words in a foreign language that has completely different spelling patterns and irregular rules (and those were only the “average” words)!

This past Thursday was the actual competition. CEFAS competed against a few other schools that are members of the Association of Christian Schools International. Our younger participant made it to the second round. This was his first time participating and we are so proud that he wanted to compete and would like to try it again next year! Our older participant made it to the 8th round! She was a little disappointed, but we couldn’t be happier for her as she made it much farther than last year.

Thanks to great schooling and a steady stream of American volunteers and teams, our children are making great strides in their English language skills. It is really interesting to watch them learn, get better and discover how to express themselves in another language. The opportunities our children have to learn English is all thanks to our supporters and sponsors! You can learn more about monthly sponsorship by clicking here.

Love & Hope Children’s Home calls the city of Los Planes de Renderos home. We are lucky to live in such an interesting place as it is a popular weekend destination for Salvadorans. This is for several reasons, the most impressive being La Puerta del Diablo, or the Devil’s Gate. It is located at the top of our mountain, Cerro Chulo, and we can walk there in about 10 minutes!  

La Puerta del Diablo sits at 3250 feet above sea level and boasts a beautiful view of El Salvador in all directions. Salvadoran families like to hike to the top to picnic, enjoy the attractions (there are carnival rides and a zip-line), eat traditional food, check out the artisan crafts, and admire the landscape. Visitors to Love & Hope also take advantage of the “Puerta” and usually take some of the children along for an afternoon out. It has become somewhat of a tradition to enjoy sunrise at la Puerta del Diablo with teams that come to serve with us in El Salvador.

From the top of la Puerta del Diablo, one can see the San Salvador Volcano, the San Vicente Volcano, the historic town of Panchimalco, Ilopango Lake, the Pacific coast and many other landmarks. It is beautiful!