Unkind Reminder for the New Year

“A voice was heard in Ramah,
Lamentation and bitter weeping,
Rachel weeping for her children,
Refusing to be comforted for her children,
Because they are no more.” – Jeremiah 31:15

It is the New Year. We returned to the streets after a short break with all the joy and excitement one conjures up at the beginning of every New Year. We were hoping for something good this year, something different; none of us can really be sure what this would entail realistically. I think deep down, we are hoping that we would have a deeper connection with the children and teens this year, perhaps they might open their hearts to see us as their spiritual family. We didn’t know what we were expecting but we wanted to see some growth in ourselves and our ministry with the children. We met each other at the foot of the Cathedral where we usually meet. Before we could finish with the customary New Year greetings, it started to rain heavily. We took shelter in the church and waited until the rain lightened up a little. Finally, we got tired of waiting and went out into the weak and still annoying drizzling rain. The streets were wet and the children were no where to be found. Most likely they were taking shelter elsewhere. Our first day we walked around the whole center searching for the children and teens and did not find anyone. We were damp but our spirits were not; there is always the second day.

Today was the second day. It was a beautiful day. It made us feel hopeful again about the New Year. We met at our usual place and immediately after our prayers, one of the teens spotted us and ran up to give us a hug. It was nice to have such a warm welcome. However, then came the bad news. She told us that Mateus was murdered on Christmas Eve. We could not believe it. He was such a sweet boy and only thirteen years old.

Life was never easy for Mateus. He comes from a family living in abject poverty in a neighborhood ironically named Father Christmas’ Garden. His family life was a far cry from any Christmas specials. He was sexually abused at a very young age by a male relative and finally ran away to the streets seeking for a better life. Unfortunately, in the streets, Mateus used sex to survive and the other children used to call him by a derogative name for male prostitutes. Mateus did have some positive influences in his life. He lived in a Christian shelter on and off for several years and he bonded with our friend and fellow missionary, Luke. They formed a deep father-son relationship. However, Mateus was a restless soul and he could not remain in the shelter for long. My understanding was that he did not know how to relate with people who did not want to abuse him sexually. He was about twelve then.

Mateus was soft-spoken and a very gentle soul. He did not engage in any criminal activity except to prostitute himself. Every time he saw us, he would run up to us and give us each a hug. Then he would just stand there without saying anything. He did not know how to proceed from the initial greeting. He suffered from a severe learning disability and he reasoned like a seven year old. Just before Christmas, Mary took it upon herself to teach Mateus how to write. Even though Mateus had been to school while he lived in the shelter, he never learned how to read. However, we had a hard time trying to locate him. He roamed the streets alone and often kept to himself. Sometimes children with similar background would hang out with him, especially the girls. They felt safe with him.

On Christmas Eve, someone lured him to a dark spot under a highway bridge and repeatedly bashed his skull until he died. He suffered a brutal and painful death. His murderer is not from the streets and has no connection with him. His death won’t be investigated because he is a poor homeless teenager. However, for our friend, Luke who knew him more than any of us, Mateus was a special gift of God to him.

Mateus is learning how to write his name just before Christmas.

Mateus is learning how to write his name just before Christmas.

Mary managed to have one lesson with Mateus. We took his picture and developed it to give to him for Christmas. He always wanted a picture of himself. The day we presented his picture, he acted as if he did not care about it. He was being a typical teenager. We knew that he appreciated it. Mary wrote a Christmas card saying that he was special. It was the last thing we gave to him.

This is our first day back and it made us realize why God wants us to be here.

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Almost a Tragic Evening

Inasmuch then as the children have partaken of flesh and blood, He Himself likewise shared in the same, that through death He might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.- Hebrews 2:14-15

I was waiting for the team members in front of the steps of the Roman Catholic Cathedral which is located in the old center of the city. The square pertaining to the church is where many of the homeless have found refuge at least for the past twenty years. In the evenings, some religious and altruistic societies come out to feed the homeless here. Consequently, it has became a the gathering point for the homeless towards the end of the day. While waiting for the team members to arrive, I noticed a man shouting out with much conviction and enthusiasm that he was from a state in the Northeast of Brazil even though he supported the local soccer team. He kept repeating this the whole time I was standing there. For some reason, in his state of insanity, he believed that the whole world should be made aware of this fact. Everyone just ignored this man which infuriated him even more and he started shouting at every passerby. This is quite a common scene among the homeless. Most of them suffer some sort of mental illness and it is not uncommon see people arguing or having heated discussion with an imaginary enemy. My mind was drifting off aimlessly thinking about the people in my surroundings and I can see how easy it is to tip over to the other side. Thankfully, the team members arrived and we found a large group of children and teens in the square.

The children were unusually eager to do activities with us. We were playing all kinds of games and some of them were even in the mood to chat with us. So far everything was going well. In the midst of this, there was another insane homeless woman who was accusing the children that they had stolen something from her. Nobody paid any attention to her including myself. I was having a great conversation with one of the teens. Then, all the sudden, I felt an icy cold liquid running down my hair and within seconds my shirt was soaking wet. I felt someone pouring what felt like a bucket of cold water on me. I stood up and saw that it was the crazy woman and she had emptied a large container of fuel alcohol on me. She was yelling at everyone saying that she meant business. I was really annoyed and confronted her. Then one of the older teens ran up to me and warned me that she had a lighter in her hand. The older teens surrounded her and threatened to hit her. She had a knife and a lighter in her hand and had threatened to set me on fire. I was in a daze for a moment and I heard people telling me to stay away from her. By this time, I began to sense the pungent stench of the alcohol. All the children and teens who are accustomed to violence in the streets were shocked at what had happened. They could not believe that someone would be aggressive to those who come to help them. The insane woman kept trying to light up her lighter and everyone told me to leave right away because I was still in danger. Finally, she gave up and ran away. The children came up to me and asked if I was feeling okay. Strangely, I was not afraid nor angry. I don’t think that I was in a state of shock. I am not even sure that I felt my life was in danger. The children advised me to go home and wash off the alcohol. It was good idea and I told them that I will be back tomorrow.

Some people would say that prayers of the saints protected me last night. I would like to think that this was true. However, I am also aware that there are many innocent people have died tragically last night in some cruel and unexpected way. I have read about people dying in similar circumstances before and on Monday, I could have been one of them. It was unprovoked and unforeseen. It was just someone with a mental illness doing something without a complete understanding of what was happening. I am glad that she wasn’t able to go through with her plans but she has marked my life nevertheless. She reminded me that mortality is something that could come to us at the moment we least expect. Despite what happened, it was a good night and bad things often happen in moments when everything seems to be going well. This is the state of our mortality. It is not something that we can avoid and it is definitely not something that we should fear.

I am going back to the same place today. I think that the lesson I learned from this incident was that I am happy doing what I am doing right now. I am not going to change it. I wasn’t feeling afraid, not because I am a brave man. Bravery is not necessarily a virtue in all situations. I could very well be insane myself and not see the danger. Maybe there might be some truth to this. However, mortality does not make any appointments with us. It just comes and I would like to continue to do what I am doing now when the time comes for me to surrender to my own mortality.

Having said this, prayers for our protection are always welcome.

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