My new friends, Maria and Marcos.
“We are ashamed, even to die. One day, our acquaintances will come to visit us on our last days, and there isn’t even space for them to enter and say goodbye” Maria told me, as she was reduced to tears. Marcos sat quietly, anxiously picking his hands and holding back tears.
The path to their home is is treacherous terrain. We drove two hours from the capital, and parked our car where it could no longer drive. We slowly trekked up the mountain on off-road vehicles until even they couldn’t make the trip. Unfortunately Bairon severely hurt his shoulder yesterday, so it was just me, Ariana and my guide. She lead me on foot through jungle-like paths made of large fallen stones and mud. We skipped from one rock to the next, carefully keeping our balance. We stopped to catch our breath, and my guide looks at me and says “Maria makes this trip daily to haul water back to her house, can you imagine?” Honestly, I couldn’t. I was struggling empty handed. We continue up to a rock formation, with a makeshift wooden gate. We arrived.
Maria waited for me with a smile, she was so kind and welcoming. Marcos, who is progressively losing his eyesight, sat a little further behind and stood up to greet me once he saw I arrived.
Although I had seen pictures of their home, a knot formed in my throat and I was holding back tears. I thought to myself “I’m not thankful enough”. There is no water, no electricity, no bathroom, no shower. There are four caving in walls, a roof where rain and sun shine through, dirt floors and two beds. Thats it.
I asked them what they eat... they pointed to a pile of home grown corn. They explained that they use the corn to make tortillas to fill themselves up, unless, on a rare occasion, a neighbor comes to donate food.
María is 69, Marcos, 74. With their age comes health concerns, of which they receive no medical care. Maria lifted her shirt to show me a long scar on her back where she once fell while hauling a barrel of water back home. Again I thought “I’m not thankful enough”.
She takes me through a tour of their house, as I crouch down to walk through, she shows me the area she cooks in, her two beds, the pile of corn and some family photos on the wall. She points to a young man, a son she adopted as an infant. He was their care taker, she explained, but he was murdered by gangs. Briefly she told me how they carried his casket up the mountain for his services. I could tell this was a sensitive subject so I didn’t press for details.
We walk back outside, where she offers me a small plate of beans, a slice of cheese and tortillas. I felt guilty eating this food-knowing how great their need is, but it was a gift from her heart that I chose to gladly accept.
We don’t expect Maria and Marcos home to remain standing through this time next year and I personally can’t let that happen. I wish it was within my means to help them by myself, but I need your help. I would love to reconstruct their house, perhaps add on a small bathroom and private bathing area. If you want to help a family this year for the holidays, pick Maria and Marcos. They need our help and my broken heart needs to help them.
If you’d like to help, you can Venmo any donations to @AmberAmador -if you don’t have Venmo, it’s a super easy app to download and use. You can buy a prepaid card to send funds with if you don’t have a debit/credit card.
Im going to try to set up a more professional donation page in the coming days, but I’m still looking into what sites similar to gofundme will easily transfer to Honduras.
If you can’t donate, please help by praying for them and SHARING this page to maybe reach people who can donate. With just a few thousand dollars we can radically change their life and living conditions.