humbling perspective...

Last week, during our rural stay in a tiny Guatemalan, mountain community I was fortunate enough to stay with the same family that received me and Chepe back in September. I arrived exhausted, both physically and emotionally, and on the eve of my 27th birthday. My two little 'host-sisters' ran out to greet me: "Seno Rebekah!" And I was so honored that these gorgeous little ladies remembered me fondly. It strangely felt something like a homecoming. Throughout the course of the week, the entire family continuously awed me with their enthusiasm and open love, their heartbreaking generosity and their gratitude. Over and over, their ability to put things in perspective humbled me and my often, all too enormous lack of perspective.

We spent meal times together, in their cozy kitchen, around their table chatting, the girls drifting off to sleep on my lap. I thought often about what I've heard many say in response to such beautiful displays of humanity in a new or different culture - "Look, they're poor, but they're happy." And I'd agree; they are poor and they are - for the most part - happy.

But if that's true, it's because they've chosen to be happy. They have plenty of reason not to be: the smoke from that 'cozy' wood-burning stove is killing their Grandma. She can hardly talk and her lungs are as black as the walls. Mama Alba has a debt so large, due to mistakes not her own, that she fears losing their house and land. The kids study without pencils or paper and work tilling the land by hand and chew their food on painfully rotted out teeth, but they smile when they dance and they get excited about garbanzo beans for dessert and they cuddle up with each other, finding the happiness to be found in simple situations and each other. My host mom landed a 'temp' job of sorts while I was staying there. It would only be a few weeks of work - but opportunity is so scarce that this was a huge victory. She just beamed and I ached. I want so deeply for them to have opportunity.

And what amazed me is that it seemed clear to me that they choose to get up every day and live out of a deep perspective; appreciating the things that can bring light rather than passively watching the darkness envelop them. So good for them that they are 'happy' - and good for people for recognizing the beauty of that - as long as it isn't used as an excuse not to do anything. In really seeing the miracle in their ability to live with less and choose happiness I was challenged, and hope others would feel the same, to do more to serve, live with less and still be 'happy'. Their ability to have perspective and find joy doesn't negate my responsibility to ALSO live with deep perspective, as if their happiness somehow justifies their daily injustices.

I came down from that mountain full of their light and burdened by the deep aching, the gut feeling that they deserve so much more. I felt burdened by the responsibility that beginning to learn how to love a people so oppressed entails and yet happier than I have in a long while.