I am in Romania, but I had to close up my time with Guatemala with a blog about my favorite little boy.

As we entered two villages in the Northern most department of Guatemala, my team was not sure what to expect. We showed up in the back of a white pick up truck with more people in it than max capacity, colorful hula hoops and hungry hippo balls bouncing in the back of the truck, and a speaker screaming some type of Spanish kids song. There were no kids in sight only the occasional parent sticking their head out of the house to see what the chaos was. We pull up to the school, which is no more than a few logs sticking out of the ground holding up a couple pieces of tin making a roof, we turn the music up and kids show up. Out of no where kids just appeared - some walking literally out of the woods between trees, some from nearby fields, some in groups of kids and some alone. 

It was the first day of ministry and we needed to get the kids names so we could give them a name tag. “Cuál es tu nombre?” was said more times than there were kids that day because it was extremely difficult to understand them especially when it is day one of learning any kind of Spanish for us. Most of the kids answered us repeatedly, but one little boy wouldn’t let out a peep. We asked Junior (another boy from the village) what this boys name was “Chin” we did not know if he was being serious or not. We write it down and give him the name tag. I noticed Chin a lot this first day because he never sat still, always ran away to climb the rock hill, and if he was sitting with someone he was turned upside down with his head in the dirt. “What a mess” I thought to myself over the first couple of days of visiting this village. 

“Es un chico de la comunidad. su madre no quería quedárselo, así que la comunidad lo cría ahora. simplemente flota de casa en casa y nosotros lo cuidamos.” The only thing I understood was he was a boy of the community, my stomach sunk. Where are his parents? Grandparents? Siblings? No one wanted this boy. 

I still do not understand, the more time passed the more I wanted to take Chin with me. He was my buddy, if he didn’t want to dance he was on my shoulders, if he was tired he was asleep in my lap, if he wanted to play he was holding my hand.

One day Chin didn’t show up to ministry, I wasn’t too worried about him until it continued for about a week and a half that Chin still wasn’t there. Our time in his village was coming to an end and I was getting worried I wouldn’t be able to tell him bye. “¿Donde esta Chin?” a phrase that became common of me. The second to last week of ministry Chin showed up on a Friday, sat on the bench and was his normal self like he hadn’t been missing for almost two weeks. We danced and played games and threw rocks - like Chin liked to do. We finished ministry that day, gave fist bumps and hugs and said “Hasta Lunes!” 

We had decided that we would split up ministry the last week and go to both villages on Monday, but only one on Wednesday and one on Thursday so we could spend all day with them our last day there. I would be taking a bus back to Antigua on Thursday morning, leaving the rest of my team in the villages. Monday comes around and Chin never shows up to ministry - I was panicked on the inside. We hang around and I realize that I will not see Chin again before I leave. 

Chin showed up to ministry on Thursday and the rest of my team got to tell him bye for me. I really struggled with leaving Chin in a community where he doesn’t have a stable home, or for the fact that he is 4 and does not know where his next meal is coming from. 

Many times over the 6 weeks I just sat and held Chin praying that he would grow up to know his Creator - that His creator would never leave him. Praying that he knows he is worth it, he is not an orphan but instead adopted into the family of God. I want Chin to know his worth despite what the world says. I saw the innocence in his eyes.