Ricardo

Ricardo (pictured right) with his sister Ceci (left)

Ricardo with his sister Elba to the right

Yesterday my host mom informed me that Ricardo passed away.

He had a cold for the last few weeks, and yesterday morning he awoke much worse. They quickly called the ambulance to take him to the clinic, and as they rowed from their house, to the other side of the lake where they would meet the ambulance, he passed away. He didn't make it to the clinic, he died in his mother's arms. 

His mother Matilde is part of my women's group. I have spent the last 2 years getting to know her and her children. They are also one of the poorest families in town. They always stay after my meetings, and I give them the left over snacks. Ricardo was 9 y/o and when he was born they told the family he would live until he was 12 at the most. For 9 years Matilde has carried him from the house to the canoe when his small legs couldn't traverse the mud and rocks. He is pictured above in his Kindergarten uniform. He was still in Kinder, whether it be for his size, or his intellectual capacity, I don't know. He loved school, and him and the Director Don Rafa were homies.

Today Don Rafa said a few words before the casket was covered. 

He said that Ricardo would hang out in the Director's office during recess and ask if Don Rafa would give him a bike, or a radio, or a cell phone. 

He was funny like that.

Don Rafa said that all children go to heaven. Because they know not how to hate. They fight on the playground and then 2 minutes later, they are hugging it out. 

He suggested that we all become like children and learn to love each other.

He said the world would be a better place if we all lived like children.

Matilde could not bear to see her son buried. Her daughter Ceci (who is in my youth group and on my softball team) was without her mom at the funeral of her brother. As I put my arms around Ceci, and she began to cry, I did as well. 

Life is raw in El Salvador. Death is ever present, Reminding us to live.

Que los angeles te cuiden, Ricardo. 

r.i.p.