Posts Tagged "poverty"

 

Santiago. La Paz, Bolivia, Oct 2009

Santiago. La Paz, Bolivia, Oct 2009

Happiness is a new soccer ball. Regulation sized? Great! Inflated? Bonus!

Ed, my husband and I took off for the run-down neighborhoods around La Paz with a social worker and a translator.  Our goal: To hand out approx 30 hand decorated dolls and 16 soccer balls to handicapped children living in the slums.

Being born poor is not uncommon in Bolivia, it’s one of the poorest and least developed countries in South America. But add a handicap on top of it and life can seem pretty bleak. So why not add a bit of happiness to a situation that we can’t possibly change in this lifetime.

The dolls and balls were greeted with a happiness and joy that I don’t recall feeling at any of the cash registers or malls in Denver.

Huh, maybe happiness isn’t a new pair of shoes.

Maybe happiness is a smile and a new soccer ball.

(From our trip to La Paz, Bolivia, Oct 2009)

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(October 2009. La Paz, Bolivia)

 

I wanted to scream in pain but I was having too much fun. Besides, I was sure if I cried the twins would quit hanging on me.

This moment was what made the past 5 years worth it.

Three separate doll making parties had turned out some beautiful dolls for our trip to Bolivia. My friends, the decorators, had painted, beaded, coiffed and loved the dolls into perfect works of art. Two of the dolls ended up looking so much alike that I was ecstatic when I found out the first children to receive the dolls were 6-year-old twins!
When we reached their neighborhood Maria greeted us at the gate and walked us through the compound. I’ve become accustom to seeing stark poverty and the simple home without running water and electricity barely registered as I saw Salena for the first time. The girls were identical! I had to look at their shoes to tell them apart. Pink Ugg boots tend to stand out in a setting like that! The girls’ grandfather came into the yard to meet us and they all listened quietly as their counselor told them that we had come from the U.S. to bring them each a present so they would know they are loved. When I pulled the twin dolls out of the bag and handed them to the girls they went berserk! They shrieked and laughed and grabbed me. Which made my knees buckle and then the pain started and then I cried… but out of joy.