Los Niños de Tus Ojos

     I carefully climbed down the steep embankment of the canal, cautiously maneuvering my feet on the slippery surface, knowing that with one wrong step I would slide down the steep ridge and land in the murky, litter strewn, brown water below. I gripped the bottom side of the bridge to steady myself as I descended toward the canal. I stepped over the cement ledge and onto the dirt ridge under the bridge. Ever away of the sheer drop to my left, I slowly inched my way along under the trusses of the bridge on my hands and stomach. The space between my face and the dirt was too close for comfort. Old watermelon rinds and bits and pieces of rubbish were only inches from my face and I forced myself not to think about the human waste I could be crawling through. A voice from somewhere in the dark yelled “tengo hambre (I’m hungry)” and a few seconds later I heard other voices echoing the same sentiment.
     I continued creeping along the dirt ridge under the bridge and I soon reached a small opening where I could almost stand-up. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness around me, I saw a small platform about 3 feet wide by 4.5 feet long tucked back further under the bridge. On the platform I saw an extremely worn blanket and a disheveled figure. The figure stretched their hand toward me and I gladly took it into mine. I held the thin hand for a minute, released it, and breathed a sigh of relief; I had been wondering how this street person would accept our intrusion in her home and her handshake confirmed our presence was approved.
     After conversing with YWAM Bolivia’s Mercy Ministry Staff who founded “Operation Restoration,” a charity that works to help rescue young people from the streets that are imprisoned by drugs, addiction, human trafficking, and poverty, we learned that the woman we were visiting was pregnant, but she had been bleeding for the past few days. Our purpose for visiting her that day and the others living under the bridge was to offer them a chance at life, in Jesus’ name, no strings attached. We were prepared to offer the people we came into contact with free medical assistance if needed, food, lodging, education, safety, counseling, and most importantly, Jesus’ unconditional love. I was so excited about the opportunity to offer life, in every aspect; to the woman we were visiting.
     As a small breeze stirred up the smell of the rotting garbage around me I refocused my eyes on the young woman in front of me. I continued to listen to the homeless woman mumble in Spanish as my friend held her in an embrace. I thought I was understanding what the tattered woman was saying, but then my brain went numb for a minute, “did I understand the Spanish correctly, no, I must have lost something in translation,” the emaciated woman before my eyes, had just turned down a chance for life. She didn’t want to leave the streets. How could that be? Why would this obviously hungry, broken woman, want to remain on the streets? Why would she want to continue living without food, water, a toilet, electricity, and medical care? I could not believe it; I had heard correctly, the woman did not want to leave her life on the streets.
     We stayed with the woman a little longer, offering the only thing she would take from us, our presence, loving touch, and friendship. Next the woman asked for something that surprised me, she wanted us to sing a song called “La Niña de tus Ojos (the daughter of your eyes)” by Daniel Calveti. Thankfully, our group knew the song she requested and we started singing to her. We sang in Spanish- “You see me when no one else notices me, You have loved me when nobody has loved me, You have given me a name, I am the daughter of Your eyes because You have always loved me, You have given me a name, and I am the daughter of Your eyes because You have always loved me, I love You more than my life, I love You more than my life, I love You more than my life, and You have given me a name.” While we were singing, I caught a glimpse of my new friend’s face in the shadows of darkness and I noted tears were streaming down her dirt stained face. She reached for my hand and I held it tightly for a minute before, she reached to touch another one of my friends. We sat surrounding this broken woman with love and care and she wept. She eagerly accepted our offer to pray with her and we lifted up her needs and concerns to our Father in Heaven, the Father who sees everyone when no one else does, and the Father that gives us a name, and calls us the apple of his eye. What a powerful moment.
     A few more minutes passed with us crouched in the dark and then, with tears still streaming down her face, our new friend stood and hugged us good-bye. We took this as our signal to leave and we left with the promise to visit again. I carefully crawled my way out from under the bridge and I stepped into the bright sun light. For a second, I was totally blinded by the light and I remembered a few scriptures that I have heard a million times, but all of a sudden they took a new meaning for me- the light has shinned into the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it, the god of this age has blinded many… As my eyes adjusted to the light and I returned to the YWAM base, I thanked God for loving me and I prayed, “Lord, may your light shine into the canals and streets of Santa Cruz, so that los niños de tus ojos will be able to see the Light of the Son!’