Estela and Antonia prepare our meals, clean up after us, and they live here with us.
Vision Nicaragua has employed them because they are widows.
These special ladies take great care of us.
Today I had the joy of serving them in a small way.
I helped in washing dishes after lunch.
Afterwards, I went ahead and washed the three sinks, scrubbing any buildup, rinsing with my hands.
They talked with me and laughed with me while I cleaned.
All three of us bantered, smiling in the kitchen, each doing some chore.
Estela dried plates, Antonia opened a window. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched their joy.
Antonia asked in Spanish, “Helenita, how old are you?”
Helenita means Little Helena. The term of endearment warms my heart. I’ve heard it all my life, but in the Portuguese, Heleninha.
“I’m 24. I turn 25 very soon, in April! April 12th” I responded.
“Oh!!!” Antonia gasped, “Will you be with us?”
“No, since my group leaves the week before” I said, with a sigh.
“Well we know that you like chocolate” Estela said, beginning to laugh.
They witnessed my near-death by chocolate on the Ides of March. I was asked to light the oven, since we were going to make brownies. Little did I know, the gas had already been turned on by one of my team-mates, who didn't know how the gas stove worked. So I open the oven, and strike the match.
And yes, there was a minor explosion. It could have been so much worse.
I felt a wave of heat come at me, and I thank God for protecting me, because my whole face and hands were practically in the oven.
Antonia was there to assess the situation and made sure I was okay. She proceeded to turn the gas OFF and then wave the gas out, open the windows. After a few minutes, she lit the oven properly, turning the gas on AFTER the match is struck.
She watched me eat huge spoonfuls of brownie batter, laughing as I told her “I nearly died, I’m going to eat brownie batter!”
“Yes, I love chocolate! It’s an explosive love! Combustible!” I said, and both of them were wiping tears away, laughing at the memories.
We talked about birthdays, our ages, and I spoke some life into them. I told them how beautiful they were, and how their joy was contagious.
As I was leaving, they thanked me for washing and for my words, and I thanked them for the meal again. We hugged. I gave them big kisses on the cheek.
They said “You’re welcome, mi hija.”
My daughter.
My heart could burst.
I’ve been at Vision Nicaragua for only 3 days, yet I already feel God’s love being poured out through these women of God.
How can it be that I’m so far from any place I know, yet I feel so at peace?
(((here's the volcano in my backyard)))
I’m exactly where God wants me to be.
Every new place overwhelms me with confirmation.
Here in Nicaragua, they call me Helenita.
They call me daughter!
