Throughout my semester in Lima I have had the privilege of volunteering at Toñito, a center for Peruvian children with a wide range of disabilities varying from dyslexia to Down Syndrome. The center focuses on mental, physical, physiological, educational, and social rehabilitation through means of therapy and education. It has been an amazing experience on many levels. Not only am I able to interact with and assist children with special needs, but for the first time I get to do it in Spanish. There is just something so meaningful about relating to someone in their native language, reaching them and serving them right where they are. It makes each relationship and friendship so much more personal, intimate.
Although I have helped out in the physical therapy room at various points, I have spent the majority of my time with older kids in a classroom setting. There are two girls, well actually women, with Down Syndrome, as well as a boy with a developmental learning disability and autism.
Last week I had a really humbling experience volunteering at Toñito that I would like to share.
Everyday the kids gather in the lunch room around 1pm to take a break from their many therapies and strict daily schedule of exercises to relax, eat together, and prepare for the second half of the day. Last week I decided to sit down next to Malu, one of the girls with Down Syndrome that I work with. Malu is 42 years-old, however appears to be much younger. She has been coming to Toñito ever since she was a little girl and all of the staff know her personally, joking with her about her "many boyfriends." Malu has the same developmental capacity of that of a 2 year old and deeply struggles with simple tasks we take for granted everyday....speaking, hand-eye coordination, memory, comprehension. Even with all of her challenges, Malu never stops smiling. She eludes innocence and joy, always lighting up when you say her name or hold her hand, helping her to color within the lines.
As you can imagine, lunchtime at Toñito can be quite crazy. The dining room is small, packed with tons of kids (many of which are in wheelchairs) as well as their staff assistants guiding them as they eat. Sitting down next to Malu, I wondered why she wasn't eating, but instead just sat there patiently while everyone else around her whipped out their lunch boxes from home. Every child seemed to be frantic, eager to eat, immediately diving into the first thing they could get their hands on.
However, not Malu.
Malu just waited...[smiling]...Waiting for her mother.
Malu's mother, Anita, comes to Toñito every single day to personally serve lunch to her 42 year-old daughter with Down Syndrome, taking that time daily to spend with her and enjoy her presence. I watched in awe as Anita prepared the area around Malu. She opened up a backpack on the lunch table, and it was as if I could see her motherly love pouring right out of it.
Anita started by placing the most beautiful floral placemat in front of Malu. Although none of the other kids had placemats and the lunch room was obviously very hectic and informal, I could tell that Anita wanted her daughter to eat with class and womanly manners. Next Anita pulled out the shiniest gourmet-looking silverware, carefully laying each piece in its proper place around the adorned plate set in the center. She smiled as she took her time tediously chopping up the food into small pieces so that Malu could eat with ease. Anita pulled out a beautiful glass cup from the backpack, filled it with water, and kissed her daughter's head as she gave her a handful of medication to take. Finally, lunch was served. Anita tucked a bib under Malu's chin and sat down next to me as her full grown daughter struggled to hold the spoon on her own, spilling in her lap. I wanted to cry. I wanted to help her. I looked to Anita, yet she didn't seem discouraged. She simply took Malu's hand in her own and encouraged her to try again.
My heart felt as though it was about to crumble. The pure love and devotion of Anita gave me chills that day. I felt so undeserving to be sitting at their table, intruding upon their daily mother-daughter lunch. I couldn't help but see God in Anita's every action, every word. She cared for Malu with such perfection, never once serving her with anything less than the absolute best.
Anita reminded me what it truly means to love someone unconditionally. Day after day, lunch after lunch.
