Maria is looking at her first Christmas tree. She and her family are "dirt" poor. A bright little Walmart Christmas tree with mini-lights brought big smiles to Maria's mother, brothers and sisters. Just a dazzling little tree, sitting on the table lighting up the stark, cold room. No Christmas tree decorations and no gifts under the tree ... just the tree and kids; and happy dreams.
Yes I know the tree celebration and December has pagan roots. I know that Christmas and the Holidays are a secular bonanza. The small child in the manger scene below the tree has become plastic. Jesus has been squeezed out of His own Birthday. (I wonder if Jesus wanted us to celebrate His Birthday why He didn't give us the dates? ... I'm an Easter man myself!)
Having said that; I know, to a child, the Christmas tree has an entirely different meaning. The colorful tree simply frames a happy fantasy. Dreams. Dreams of what could be. Happy time. Mysterious gifts.
Down the muddy road, a short distance, is where the Gonzalo family lives.
Luis was hit by a car. Major injuries and in a coma for three months. He's now crippled and unable to support his family of six. Mom sells little candies at the school. The family's one room house rests on a shelf of dirt dug from the side of a canyon. Several beds; dirt floor. Cardboard and plastic roof. It was hard to find a place to set their Christmas tree. Electricity comes from a long lamp cord connected to a power line on the road above.
Merry Christmas? Not quite.
Happy New Year? ... we hope so. (Please pray for that little family)
The kids were so happy with their bright sparkling little tree.
We climbed back up to the road. Climbing a long line of tire stairs ... leaving the family with money for food and some candies. (We'll bring them some blankets and gifts tomorrow.)
This season there are dreams of what could be. However in too many cases there are dreams of what ... could have been.
If people only knew.
Luis's girl looks at the tree through their door.
