Butterflies

One thing that Scott and I have discussed is that living in Guatemala at a children’s home has put our emotions on code red alert. From the moment we stepped off the plane on May 17 our emotions took off on a roller coaster ride. The interesting thing about this emotional ride is that the feelings (tears, laughter, anger, etc.) all present themselves at the most inappropriate times. My latest attack jumped out in the midst of making bookmarks.
Each night the team that is visiting does an activity. The activity on this particular evening was decorating bookmarks. The team had big felt bookmarks with a scripture on them and then the kids got to decorate their bookmarks with felt stickers. There were dinosaurs, flowers, leaves, letters, numbers, shapes, butterflies, and snails in every color and size known to man. Pretty much anything you can think of we had to decorate with. As the team members were passing out piles of stickers to the tables, I headed over with my pink bookmark to one of the girls’ tables. This table had 4 girls all in the age range of 8-10. I sat down next to Luisa and we girls decided to organize our big pile into smaller categories rather than “dig in” like the boys. The girls were all jabbering as they sorted about which ones they liked and what colors were prettiest and which ones would match their bookmark the best. Luisa, found a teeny-tiny butterfly and picked it up. After she looked at it the butterfly began to call out “Mi Mama, Mi Mama” as Luisa guided it to the jumbo sized butterfly we had already found. At first I smiled to myself because that is exactly what 8 year old Sophie would have said, but then IT HIT ME, just like the warm saliva before you throw up….Luisa doesn’t have a mama.
Immediately tears burned my eyes and I felt dizzy. My eyes starting scanning the room for Scott because I knew I was going to pass out right then.
When Luisa arrived at Agua Viva she had been ordered here by the courts. There is no historical information on Luisa. The only information the home has on her is her birthday, which she informed them of, there aren’t any documents to prove the date. The family that Luisa once had lost all their familial rights. The courts have ordered them never to see her. Luisa has never seen them. Luisa has no one. Unlike most of the children at Agua Viva Luisa truly is an orphan.
What is even worse is that Luisa knows she is an orphan. Luisa knows she has no one to call Mommy or Daddy. Luisa knows that not having a mommy or daddy is unusual, not how most kids live, not right, not how God intended it to be. Luisa knows that little baby butterflies go with their bigger mommies to be taken care of.
Ever since my first trip to Agua Viva I’ve known Luisa’s story. I’ve listened as people have explained, I’ve read on her information sheet, I’ve even been there when she has talked about it, but for the very first time, sitting next to her at the craft, I heard her story. It was more than I could bear. I can’t even imagine what that feels like. I can’t imagine what it means to not have a mother. I am still processing it and I still don’t have the words to express how it makes me feel…I don’t think words even exist that are strong enough to express what being motherless means.
As I sat there and finished my bookmark I felt every emotion. I wanted to snuggle closer to her. I wanted to get on a plane home and not look back. I wanted to ask the team if they knew someone who needed a little girl. I wanted to adopt her myself and be her mama. I wanted throw up. I wanted to scream. Mostly though, I wanted to crawl into my mommy’s lap, smell her familiar smell, and cry and cry and cry.