On Cocoa Krispies and Water Drops

Naschly (left), Brisia (right), and the Choco Krispis (center)

Today is the day we see Naschly, a Chinandega six-year-old we sponsor through Compassion International. A Compassion van with a driver and host/translator takes us from our hotel to the host church, Iglesia de Dios Central.

As the program director shows us the church she tells us that 120 children are in the program that started just last year. After school, three days each week, they receive a meal and additional education. We are the first sponsors to visit. We learn that only about 10 percent of sponsors are able to make in-person visits. The children are not here—it is a Nicaraguan vacation day.

We go to Naschly’s home where she lives with her mother Angela, an older sister Brisia, grandparents, and an aunt. We learn en route that she asked to wear the sandals and dress she bought with her birthday present from us. We knock and Naschly appears shyly behind the bars—wearing an immaculate white dress, blue sandals and matching blue hairbands. 

After introductions we chat—seeing pictures she has drawn, showing her photos of our family, talking about favorite colors, learning numbers and letters, and she gradually warms. Her mother gently coaches her with appropriate questions and polite answers.

She looks into the gift bag we brought, and takes out the crayons, pencils, coloring books. . . When we tell her that the two bracelets are so she can share one with her sister, she immediately passes one on.

We go to TipTop for lunch with all family members except the grandparents, who decline. Grandpa is on duty as a taxi driver, and Grandma feels more comfortable at home. We laugh about antics with Ani-Lapiceros (animal-topped pens that come with the children’s meals).

Marlo asks our Compassion host about other options. We cannot give money, she says, but some sponsors take the family grocery shopping and pay for the groceries.  An appropriate amount? She suggests $25.  Pali, a local grocery chain is just a block away.  Hand-in-hand we walk past a park that Naschly says she plays in sometimes. Naschly's mother and the Compassion director ask to have their picture taken with Marlo because they want to see what they look like next to him--they're two heads short than he is.

At the grocery store, Angela buys staples such as rice, sugar, flour—and one splurge: the Cocoa Krispies Naschly requests. From her perch in the cart with her sister driving it, Naschly hugs the cereal box, and grins when I take a photo.

Angela is careful not to overspend. When the cashier rings it up, it totals only $20. We take them home, take photos all around, and hug goodbye.

I confess: when I have looked at Naschly’s picture on our refrigerator, I have at times felt noble.

But not today.

Today as we drive away  I feel . . .I don’t know . . . numb, I guess.

We do so little. Naschly’s grandparents took her family into their home when her parents separated. Her grandfather drives taxi 6 a.m. to 8 p.m.  Every day Angela does laundry and ironing for others, to earn some money. The teachers in the Compassion program volunteer their time three days each week.

But, tiny though we be, we have our place.

In a Facebook message to Kathie Evenhouse today, feeling blue, I called it a drop in the bucket. She reminded me that lots of little drops add up.

And that reminds me—there are 10 children still unsponsored at Iglesia de Dios Central.

And when we return home, we plan to ask for their names and look for sponsors.

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