People always ask me what country I liked living in the most. That is easy to answer. Honduras! Why? I fell in love with the people!
Last night I watched Which Way Home, a documentary following the stories of several minors from Honduras, facing harrowing dangers in their desperate journey to reach loved ones in the U.S. Unnaccompaied, they seek to cross through Mexico by train hoping to sneak into the United States. They know the dangers; not only of being deported, but the possibility of death in the desert, rape, falling under the train, hunger and abuse.
The story followed closely two thirteen year old boys who were eventually caught and sent back home, only to try once again. Two boys died, one girl fell under the train and had her legs amputated, while two others, age 9, are unaccounted for.
These were stories of hope and courage, disappointment and sorrow.
Their stories of what brought them to the point where they were willing to risk death to have a better life flooded my mind with memories and compassion for the people of Honduras once again.
One boy had been abandoned by his mother at age three and lived on the streets, addicted to drugs. All he wanted was someone to love him and he hoped by getting to the US, he would find that love; find a family to take him in.
The other boy wanted to better the life of his mother and younger siblings. His mother was married to an abusive man who not only abused his mom but also did not want him in the house.
My heart goes out to the children of Honduras. So many of them live in extreme poverty, unable to attend school, forced into abusive situtations. Some children have loving parents who try hard but are caught in a web of poverty and unable to properly care for then. Then there are those living on the streets, so many of them, addicted to drugs, hungry, turning to violence, sex and gangs.
The orphanages in Honduras are full of both orphans, children abandoned, and those placed there by parents who are incapable of caring for them.
I would go back there to live and work in a heart beat if I could. I could go on a mission trip and spend a few thousand dollars to give me the experience of helping for a week, or I can send money to some dear missionary friends who work with these children. I was reading their blog this morning and they mentioned a family they were helping. $67 a month would ensure the children of the family were fed and sent to school.
My friends and I went out for banana splits yesterday and the bill came to $45.