Aracely

The atrium to my new coffee shop.

Maybe she could read my mind. I was just thinking about holiday giving, what I wanted to do besides toss some pesos in the myriad cups being held out by hopeful accordianists. I was thinking about how much more gratifying it was when I looked the person in the eye and wished them a good day as the coins tumbled into the cup. I was wondering how I could do something that felt more personal. Or maybe she sensed that I had a computer in my backpack, an iPhone in my Fossil purse and a healthy dose of privileged guilt. Whatever it was, Aracely had my number. When this little girl saw me she immediately discarded the cup, walked up to me and asked me in Spanish to buy her some new shoes. I told her I could give her some money but I couldn't buy her shoes. Maybe it was the big brown eyes, or the rubber band holding one shoe together, or my misguided idea that I could make her happy. By the time Randy came out of the coffee shop (where we had just spent $3.00 on a chocolate bar) I had caved in. He was skeptical. He offered his opinion that there were better ways to help, that I was getting into a potential mess, etc. But, in his usual kind and indulgent way with me, he agreed to go along.

Tis the season to spend money, right?

In the meantime, Aracely's sister, Angela, had excitedly packed up her accordian and agreed to take us to meet their mother, so we could tell her we were taking her kids to the shoe store. After all, even though these girls were completely unsupervised on the streets of Oaxaca, they were only about 6 and 10 and we thought it wouldn't be a great idea to take them anywhere without at least telling the adult in charge. They took us a couple of blocks, to a group of women and children sitting against a building. I asked who was the mother and if we could take the kids to get shoes. A woman who looked very happy about the whole thing identified herself as the mother. I can't imagine how it must feel to not be able to provide the basics for your kids or how it would feel to have a complete stranger offer to do it. And if felt weird, suddenly to be that stranger.

Decorations around town...

We started off for the shoe store, suddenly with a brother also in tow. Things started going downhill pretty fast. Now, all three kids needed new shoes and there was plenty of pleading, crying and gnashing of teeth, but I held firm on buying only one pair. This, of course, pitted the siblings against each other and soon there was pushing and arguing added to the mix. By the time we arrived at the zapatería, the brother was on the floor in agony over the whole thing.

Aracely picked out a pair of pink Barbie tennis shoes. I didn't even try to steer her to something more appropriate. As I paid, the saleswoman gave me some suckers and I thought this might lessen the blow to the brother and sister. On the contrary; they were done with suckers and immediately ran off without a word, without a thanks, without a backward glance.

What had I expected? We had totally different goals.  I wanted a connection; Aracely wanted shoes. I saw her as a specific person I could help; she saw me as a wallet. I should've known better than to mix giving with an agenda. It wasn't her obligation to make me feel good.

At the lending library in town there is a list of local kids in need this holiday. You can choose a name, buy the requested gift (one was for "milk and cookies"), wrap it, and drop it off. No agenda, no strings, just giving. We're headed there now.

A scene from one of my favorite creches around town
featuring an elephant, a turkey, and baseball players.

Happy Holidays, however you celebrate!