What is life?

The inspiration to write began very unexpectedly when I saw a small boy who unknowingly would make a deep impact on me. I was in the back seat of a mid-size vehicle minding my own business and thinking about the daily tasks that lay ahead when we pulled up to an awkward intersection. I took little notice to the people walking through the stopped cars selling candies, magazines, and other home-made goods (cause that’s normal in Mexico). As I stared out the window my eyes caught the flash of a little red backpack with spider-man’s eyes staring back at me. The wearer of the backpack was a boy of no more than four or five years old. He was wearing a ratty oversized  t-shirt, a dirty pair of jeans, and he had an even dirtier little red rag hanging from his right hand. He hurried to the first car that had stopped at the intersection and reached with his tippy tippy toes in an attempt to clean dirty side mirrors. With his little red rag he very likely only smeared the dirt that was already covering the glass. The front window rapidly rolled-down part way to reveal a large man’s hand holding some pocket change for the boys efforts and the window was immediately rolled back up as quick as it came down. What happened next struck me to the core. With a far-away gaze, the boy slowly and with precision put his fingers together and touched his forehead and lowered his hand to his chest before crossing it between his tiny shoulders. Four or five years old… he taught me a lesson on faith and giving appreciation where appreciation belongs. I was overcome with an appreciation for my life and the possibilities before me to help and serve.

On another occasion we were approached by a young boy (also cleaning side mirrors at a stop light) and I was taken off guard. We gave the boy some change for his efforts but there was a part of me that was angry because such a young boy was out washing windows trying to survive. As those feelings started to grow I looked back to see the boy quickly reunite with his father who had been washing windshields. The father patted the boy on the head and they sat down together for a rest.

Not too long after this I was walking down our alley rather quickly to grab something from our apartment when I passed by a man and another young boy. It was a few minutes after I passed them that I realized what they were doing. The man had been digging through the trash and the young tike was holding a bag open for cans. Again, I didn’t really know what I should be feeling about this situation.
I think if you look at these situations at face value there is reason to sorrow. If you only see young boys struggling for survival than there may be even cause to question faith and maybe even God’s existence. You might even be angry at a world that would allow such things to happen. I was touched by each of these situations and the question I ask myself is, “What can I learn?” or, “What is to be done?”

Another part of me is happy about what I saw. In reality you might call me crazy after a statement like that. Let me explain… What a miracle that at such a young age our spider-man backpacked and tiny red ragged boy has developed enough faith to form a habit of appreciation towards God. Someone had to teach him that. How special that the second window-washing child is able to spend his days working along side his father and spending time with him. What principles were our trash digging father teaching to his small son as they looked for cans? I would like to hope that there was teaching taking place. Maybe these situations weren’t as devastating as I first thought? Maybe they were. These are my thoughts.