Back on my terrace, again I look out onto the children’s playground. I watch them hanging upside down on jungle gyms, swinging, yelling “hola!” to anyone and everyone who walks by. Beneath a hopeful sun I dream of a perfect world where if only for a short while, every child will be accompanied to a park by their family. They will be watched with careful and loving eyes as they scramble and swing, jump and slide, laughing as they adjust twisted balloons on their small heads, wisps of dried cotton candy staining pink and blue the corners of their smiling mouths. Carefree and blissfully naïve.
And for tonight, I like to think that as the girls of the Casas Hogares are tucked into their beds, a loving Madre just may whisper into each small ear, “Buenos noches y suenes con los angelitos.”
Good night and sweet dreams, and may you dream of little angels.
Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons of life do not last. The Spring rains will come again.
Sarah Ban Breathnach
* Excerpted from the Casa Hogar brochure. For more information you may visit, www.santajulia.org, or contact Robin Loving-Rowland at robin@robinloving.com
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