The rain began as we entered the meager home of Rosibel and her four children. I was thrilled because Comunidad Connect put on that new roof a few years ago. They have no furniture, so we stood in her one-room house and asked Rosibel about her youngest child. We had come with our nurse, Enma Gutierrez, and a pediatrician and neurologist from the states.
Eliezer is four years old and was hit by a car about 6 months ago. The trauma caused significant physical and cognitive damage, such that he cannot stand, speak, or control his bowels. Rosibel does not work but rather relies on the kindness of neighbors to survive. The day before, the family had not eaten. And there Rosibel stood before us, holding her son as the pitter-pat of rain pinged off the tin roof. Her other children watched from the front door. The doctors took vital signs and suggested ways to stimulate Eliezer as the family adapts to life after his accident. Sensing the closure of our visit, I reached out to Rosibel and said, “I know this must be very difficult, but remember that you are not alone”.
With that, the strong woman who stood before us with her son in her arms broke down in tears. Her children watched as our circle around Rosibel got smaller and Enma embraced her. “You can do this”, she said. “Only a mother can take on this kind of challenge. And God has brought all of us to your house, at this moment, to help you and your family. You are not alone…”
As the rain stopped, we collected ourselves and our belongings. The children gathered around their mother and Eliezer. We promised to return the next day with food and pampers, and we waved goodbye as we got into the truck to visit more patients.
Driving slowly down the bumpy roads of Los Robles, I ask myself, “What do we do now? We can’t give her everything she needs from now on. They need a bathroom, a second bed, a stove, school uniforms, food, and clothes. Would a bread oven provide enough income to cover her needs? Would chickens lay enough eggs to give the family food security? How can we break this cycle of poverty?”
The answers to these difficult questions don’t come easy. Yet we work on the solutions every day with our staff, community partners, and yes – donors like you. Your gifts ensure that our nurse is present and advocates for families like Rosibel’s. Your help allows us to now provide transportation for Eliezer to go to physical and occupational therapy. Most importantly, you enable us to make the promise of returning the next day with critical resources – to further encourage her to believe that she is indeed not alone. You remind us that we are all in this together: you, me, Enma, Rosibel, and a growing community that wants to improve the lives of those less fortunate.