It’s pronounced “ah-fay” and stands for Amor, Fe y Esperanza. We spent Saturday morning there distributing gifts to about 150 kids who live and work on or around the dump. It’s our fourth year as a family of adding this to our holiday traditions. When we lived in the states we made shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child. It’s a little easier when it doesn’t all have to fit in such a small space-and SO much more fun to see the kids receive their gifts.
You smell the dump before you see the entrance. Vultures soaring high above mark the place where the most recent trash has been dumped. Our bus headed down into the little valley where AFE has a school that started more than 10 years ago when a little girl asked her pastor Dad,”What are you going to do about those kids?” after seeing them scavanging at the dump. They graduated their first class last year.
Kids poured in as we arrived. All shapes, sizes and ages. Some of the students are in their 20′s but are just learning to read. They were all excited, knowing what was ahead and we laid out snacks and popped pop corn as they found seats or plopped on the floor. Richard led us in some easy kids songs and then Harold gave his testimony (with Richard’s help) of his Dad who played Santa for several years and used it to tell the story of the Greatest Gift-Christ. A skinny dog wandered in looking for a handout. Kids sang at the top of their voices and then listened to Harold’s story. We gave out snacks and then announced the name of each child for them to come and claim their gift. Each child walked to the front amidst applause and they returned to their seat waiting patiently while everyone else received their gift. One highlight was a little guy of about 4 who walked off smiling and waving his box triumphantly over his head. A few went unclaimed-waiting for their owners who were probably out working. Then came the big countdown and the cries as everyone opened their gifts together. Kids looked around to see other’s gifts, often helping assemble something or sharing candy. We exchanged smiles and hugs and many kids came to say “thank you.”
As kids trickled out afterward Gabe gathered a few for soccer. From far away you could hardly see the differences- clean or dirty, tall or short, dark or light skin-they were just a group of boys doing what any Central American kid does on a Saturday afternoon. As I watched them leave later I wondered what kind of situations they each returned to. One older lady I talked to was the Grandmother to 5 of the kids there. “One of my Grandsons is in the United States,” she said smiling. It’s the dream of so many to go there and have opportunity.
I am so blessed. Thanks Lord, for having the privilege to give, for smiles and laughter even among those who live a hard life, for struggles that seem so small in comparison, for my kids who were excited to see others receive,for those who live and work among these kids every day…