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The Children Of Peru by Leah Partow
When she turned and looked at me, she had a huge smile on her face. With a “Gracias” and a hug and kiss on the cheek,
she ran off to proudly show her friends the plastic, drug store hair ties that cost me nearly nothing. I was ashamed to think of
how much I daily take for granted.
The second child who changed my perspective was a younger girl from a different community. While in Peru, we had to be
careful about handing out toys and presents for fear of being mobbed, which, sadly, occurred on more than one occasion. We
had worked in this community all morning, then performed our drama. Afterwards we came back out to feed everyone a
special nutritional soup. There were more adults than usual that day.
While I was on the bus, I had stuffed my pockets with toys to sneak to some of the small children. I saw a young girl, maybe
four or five years old, walking through the garbage down a small hill, presumably towards her ramshackle home. I realized it
was the perfect opportunity to give her something, as there was a good chance no one would see. I walked over to her, and
standing on the incline with both of our backs facing the crowd of hungry faces, I pulled out a beanie baby. She took it in her
little hands as though it were porcelain, and then turned and gazed at me like I had just handed her the moon. I knelt in the
muddy garbage next to her and gave her a lingering hug, then smiled and walked away before anyone caught on that I had
presents in my pockets.
I could tell when I approached my friends that my joy was clearly noticeable on my face by the way they looked at me: with
great understanding. I turned and watched as the little girl picked her way slowly back up the hill, and spotted her mother
amongst those waiting for the soup. She held her beanie baby up to her mother with a look that clearly showed it was her
new treasure. At that moment, I took a picture that I keep on my computer, and still look at constantly. The look on that child’s
face has literally changed me.
We continued sneaking toys to the children, and hygiene products to the adults for the remainder of our time there. All too
soon it was time to go back for the day. As we left, many of the children ran alongside our bus for a distance. Not long after
that day it seemed, it was time to head back home. I remember hugging my newfound friends in the airport, people I’d never
met before, from all over the world, who in such a short time became as dear to me as family. I knew I’d be able to keep in
touch with them, but that didn’t stop any of us from crying in the middle of the airport! These were the teens that had been by
my side during one of the most challenging experiences of my life. I knew I’d never forget them.
During my short time in the lovely Lima, Peru, I learned more than I ever expected I would. I will never forget the joy on the
faces of small children, with so much less than me, and harder lives than I could even imagine. I remember comparing them
to American children; how overjoyed they were to receive a McDonalds’ toy that most children here would nonchalantly toss
into the garbage. My experience showed me how much I have to be grateful for. Yes, there are definitely some difficult
struggles in my life and in the lives of those around me. I realize that my generation hurts. But even still, we have much to be
grateful for. There are still occasions on every day when I’m ungrateful for what I have. I know that living in America, it’s
generally accepted as being okay. I’m lucky enough to have been able to see with my own eyes, however, the young lives I
could unequally compare my own to. I’m blessed by my experience and I know I’ll never be the same again.
Note from Leah's proud mother: You can support Leah by purchasing her beautiful handmade Salvation Bracelets.
Over the summer I went on a mission trip to Lima, Peru with Brio Magazine.
When I left home, I knew I would be in for a learning experience. I didn’t know
how much I was to learn though. When we arrived that first night, through the
darkness and foggy bus windows we stole our first glances at what was to
become our home away from home for the next two weeks. It was poor and
run-down looking. There was graffiti everywhere and garbage littered the
streets. As we drove further out, we could see little communities on the
hillsides. The houses were poorly built and very small, all with flat roofs. I
remember feeling very intimidated and I wondered how people could bear to
live there. But as I spent those next two weeks with the Peruvian children, and
in the communities doing service work, I soon fell in love with Peru and its
inhabitants. I also came to realize how much I have to be grateful for.
When we first started out, I was unsure of myself. I couldn’t speak Spanish
and I didn’t know how to interact with the kids. But within the first day or two, I
started to warm up. By the end of the first week, I was notorious on my team
for being the one with the kids until the last possible moment. We played
games like tag, Duck Duck Goose, jumping rope, and blowing bubbles.
Sometimes all they wanted to do was hug us. I spoke what little Spanish I
knew and it was enough to get me by. I could say hello and tell them they were
beautiful, and a few other simple phrases.
There were two children in particular who simply melted me. One of the things
we did in Peru was to wash hair for anyone who wanted us to. It wasn’t the
easiest thing to do, however. We could usually see lice and lice maggots
crawling around. Although we could wear plastic gloves, I knew it would pull
on their hair, so I decided to use my bare hands. One particular little girl,
possibly ten years old, had her hair washed, and was sent over to me so I
could towel dry it, brush it out, and do something fun with it. Her hair was
hopelessly tangled, and bunches of it came off as I brushed. She also had a
patch on her scalp where the hair was completely missing. Like many of the
others, she had lice. Finally, I managed to untangle her shoulder-length black
hair. After letting her choose some of the colored clips and ties I had stowed
in my pockets, I braided her hair, and put in a headband.
When I left home, I knew I would be in for a learning experience. I didn’t know
how much I was to learn though. When we arrived that first night, through the
darkness and foggy bus windows we stole our first glances at what was to
become our home away from home for the next two weeks. It was poor and
run-down looking. There was graffiti everywhere and garbage littered the
streets. As we drove further out, we could see little communities on the
hillsides. The houses were poorly built and very small, all with flat roofs. I
remember feeling very intimidated and I wondered how people could bear to
live there. But as I spent those next two weeks with the Peruvian children, and
in the communities doing service work, I soon fell in love with Peru and its
inhabitants. I also came to realize how much I have to be grateful for.
When we first started out, I was unsure of myself. I couldn’t speak Spanish
and I didn’t know how to interact with the kids. But within the first day or two, I
started to warm up. By the end of the first week, I was notorious on my team
for being the one with the kids until the last possible moment. We played
games like tag, Duck Duck Goose, jumping rope, and blowing bubbles.
Sometimes all they wanted to do was hug us. I spoke what little Spanish I
knew and it was enough to get me by. I could say hello and tell them they were
beautiful, and a few other simple phrases.
There were two children in particular who simply melted me. One of the things
we did in Peru was to wash hair for anyone who wanted us to. It wasn’t the
easiest thing to do, however. We could usually see lice and lice maggots
crawling around. Although we could wear plastic gloves, I knew it would pull
on their hair, so I decided to use my bare hands. One particular little girl,
possibly ten years old, had her hair washed, and was sent over to me so I
could towel dry it, brush it out, and do something fun with it. Her hair was
hopelessly tangled, and bunches of it came off as I brushed. She also had a
patch on her scalp where the hair was completely missing. Like many of the
others, she had lice. Finally, I managed to untangle her shoulder-length black
hair. After letting her choose some of the colored clips and ties I had stowed
in my pockets, I braided her hair, and put in a headband.