Poverty Project International Stories

It felt like I was entering the Amazon. Not a soul was to be seen. Great swaths of bamboo fell into the water at the river's edge and wild mangoes towered overhead. But for the hum of our motor, the world was silent. There are many places the tourists visit in Bocas, this is not one of them. I did hear there is a mna they call Santa who lives along the river's edge in a home built by his own hands. I hear he has a long beard. I watched as we rounded corners of dark water until his house finally came into view. I saw his hollowed out canoes, but I did not see him sitting in the lawn chair sitting among the coconut palms down by the water. I know there are crocodiles, very big ones, in some of the rivers that run from the mountains down into the sea. I wondered if one might be lurking beneath me. A middle aged man and his aging mother came into view. He paddled their cayuko. She held an umbrella in her wrinkled hand. They said nothing as they passed. He smiled, but did not

We lost a young man. His name was Ubaldino and he was 20. He was an orhpan who was left on the streets when he was about 12 with a 2 year old brother to care for. And he had a terrible skin disease. It is so hard to understand why some are born into this world to undergo such suffering. Ubaldino could not work because his condition. He knew he could not have a girl friend, which is heartbreaking to me, to think that you could never know that basic kind of love. We bought zinc for the roof of his house. before that, the rain poured in. We bought blankets and pillows for his bed because he had none. We bought clothing for him and for his little brother and food for their table. But it wasn't enough. This is difficult for me. I cared for a young man that no one would hug because of the way he looked. He came running across the street to me yelling, Mommy! everytime he was me. Sometimes I was frustrated with him because he wanted money to out minutes on his cell phone and I