“God’s love is God’s love is perfect - unconditional,
forgiving, and everlasting.” ~ John 3:16
No matter how many layers of
cardboard she arranged for a mattress, her bones still ached; let alone the
rodents that preyed on her young flesh.
Bianka, her mother, and thousands of others lived crammed into shacks
made from packing crates and corrugated tin.
The largest slum in Central America, La Carpio is an isolated
section of San José bordered by two polluted rivers, a sewage plant and the
city’s landfill. It’s where refugees settled
following Nicaragua’s bloody civil war in the 1980’s.
Massive overcrowding spawned appalling levels of poverty,
crime, disease and sexual abuse.
Bianka left a brief note on the table: “I’m
running away – please don’t look for me.”
She left her barrio of 14 years not knowing where she was headed, how
she’d survive or who she’d meet; but didn’t care. She was free … that’s all that mattered.
Bianka longed to see the world. Tired of a home having only a dirt floor, abysmal
water quality, and a bare food pantry, she dreamed of a better life. She hated La Carpio and the desperate sounds
of hungry children.
Knowing what life on the streets would be like for her naïve
daughter, Bianka’s mother Livia hurriedly packed to go find her. Before leaving, however, she stopped for one
last thing. She sat in the photo booth,
closed the curtain, and spent all she could on pictures of herself. With a purse full of photos, she boarded the first
bus to San José.
Livia knew Bianka had no way of earning money. But her daughter was too stubborn to
quit. When hunger meets ego, people will
do the unthinkable to survive.
She searched bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the
reputation for prostitutes. She left her
picture taped on bathroom mirrors, bulletin boards and utility poles. On the back of each photo she wrote a note.
Soon both the money and pictures ran out. Livia wept as she boarded the bus back to La
Carpio.
Weeks later, her shoulders slumped as Bianka descended the flophouse
stairs. Once brilliant eyes cast a
mournful gaze of pain and fear. She
looked exhausted; her dream had become a nightmare.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes detected a
familiar face. There on the lobby mirror
was a picture of her mother. She raced
across the room, removed the small photo, and read its gripping invitation: "Whatever
you’ve done - it doesn't matter. Please
come home!"
Bianka caught the next bus home.
She still didn’t know how she’d
survive or where they’d live, but didn’t care.
Bianka felt her Mom’s unconditional love … home was all that mattered. They’d figure something out – together.
Lord, thank You for Your unconditional love. Whereas others may or may not decide to love
us only after we have entered their lives, You love us, flaws and all. Thank You, for welcoming us into Your divine
family as your sons and daughters. Amen
