Bearing Burdens

Today I held a little boy in my arms and rocked him while he sobbed and sobbed.

I was painting Katerin's nails when I heard a little boy at the end of the table burst into tears. There were two boys next to him, both of which are known for being little stinkers, but I didn't see what happened to make him cry. I asked the boys and they looked guilty, but didn't say anything.

I couldn't do much because I couldn't figure out what had happened. So I scooped up little, sobbing Wilson in my arms and sat on a bench and rocked him until he could control his tears. He was shaking and having such a hard time. I asked if he was hurt and he said no. So here's what I figured had happened.

Wilson was coloring a Dora the Explorer coloring page. He wasn't very good at coloring and the picture was kind of girly. It sounded like the older boys had made fun of him or his picture and it just really hurt his feelings.

But as he sat in my arms and sobbed, I could tell that that was not all that he was crying about. It seemed like he had just had enough, of everything and needed a good cry.

When he had stopped sobbing, I asked him a bit about himself. I had never really seen him before and didn't know much. I thought he was maybe 4 or 5, but he told me he was 7! He was so small and so frail. It broke my heart.

Hectors parents have nine children (one of which died in an accident not too long ago). His parents work on a farm two hours away and rarely come home. This leaves his big sister Alida (16) to care for the family all by herself.

The four youngest ones come to El Bichito for lunch, and they all just love to be loved. They are also the skinniest of the kids we have. They wear the same thing everyday, and they don't talk much, but they are sweet.

Finally, it was time to go and his sister Aurora (9) came and got him from me. I gave him a little Mamba candy and told him I was excited to see him tomorrow. I hope he comes!

Anyways, from this experience I learned that you don't need words to bear another's burden. In this case, I simply wasn't capable of speaking to him. It reminded me of times when I've held crying children who couldn't talk yet. All I could do was hold him and every once in a while tell him that it was ok and that he's an awesome boy. And that seemed to be enough.

P.S. If he's here today, I'll take a picture of him and post it here!