Bogota Blessings (8 page)

Carlos came downstairs and sat beside him. “You want to tell me about it?”

“About what?” Mateo asked.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Carlos laid a hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “You know I will help you however I can.”

“I know.” Mateo combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you prayed about it?”

Mateo remembered the number of times he’d gone to God for guidance. “Repeatedly.”

“And what do you feel God is leading you to do?”

“That’s just it. I feel like He wants me to go in both directions, but I don’t see how it is possible.”

Carlos remained silent for a moment, and then spoke in a thoughtful tone. “Perhaps if I knew what directions you feel compelled to go in, I could help you figure out where God wants you to be.”

“I suppose I can tell you. You probably already know anyway.” Mateo glanced toward the archway leading into the main room. “But let’s take a walk. I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing.”

“That bad, huh?” Carlos said as they stood.

“No, not really.” Mateo rose and led the way down the stairs. He waited by the front door while Carlos told one of the mission’s regular volunteers they were going out, praying for the strength to admit his dilemma to the man who had become his father.

Ever since a misguided attempt at a relationship that had almost ended in disaster when he was twenty, Mateo had avoided becoming romantically involved with any woman. Carlos had agreed that he would be better off waiting for the woman God intended to come along rather than dating multiple women in an attempt to find her on his own. After seven years of waiting, Mateo had begun to wonder if God intended for him to remain single forever. Then Kayla arrived and turned everything he thought he knew about God’s plan for his life upside down.

Carlos returned and the two men stepped out into the cloudy day. They walked quietly for a moment while Mateo gathered his thoughts, then he glanced at Carlos.

“You know I have always felt my place is here at the mission. That this is where God wants me to be.”

“Has that changed?” Carlos asked as he skirted a pile of trash.

“No. I am sure God still wants me to be here, helping the street children.” Mateo looked around the rundown buildings, trash-filled gutters, and the few ragged and worn people walking along the dirt street. “But now, I feel God is leading me in a new direction, one that does not fit well with this life.”

“If God is leading you in a new direction while keeping you here, there is a way for it to work.”

“I don’t see how.” Mateo took a deep breath, digging deep for the courage to admit to the new direction. “I’ve come to care about Kayla a great deal, and in my heart I feel she is the one I have been waiting for. But I can’t ask her to give up her life in America and come here to live in...this. She deserves a better life than I could give her. A better life than living with and worrying about
los desechables
.”

Carlos put out a hand and stopped him, turning to face him fully. “What if this is where God wants her?”

“How could He? Kayla has not spoken of staying here. She only speaks of the fact she is going home soon. Yes, she has compassion for the children, as we all do, but she does not appear to have the desire to work with the mission full time.” Mateo shook his head and looked away. “I pray for wisdom and guidance, but nothing changes. I still feel pulled in two conflicting directions with no hint as to what I am supposed to do.”

“Perhaps it is God’s way of telling you to wait.” Carlos laid a hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “I know Kayla cares about you. It is obvious in the way she looks at you and interacts with you. Perhaps she, too, is feeling pulled in two conflicting directions and is waiting for God to show her which way to go.”

“Maybe.” Mateo hadn’t considered that Kayla might also be struggling with finding God’s will for her life. Could it be that with time and patience the direction of their lives would become clear? After another moment’s thought, he gave his friend and pastor a small smile. “Thank you, Carlos. Though it is bound to be difficult, I will attempt to wait patiently.”

The pastor chuckled as they headed back the way they had come. “Just remember that waiting patiently doesn’t mean you have to sit still and do nothing. I don’t see how it could hurt to continue to develop your relationship with Kayla, if that is truly what you feel God is leading you to do. She is lovely young lady.”

The warmth that filled Mateo whenever he thought of Kayla, as well as the certainty in his heart that she was the woman God intended for him, indicated he should follow Carlos’s advice. But unlike the pastor, he could see how it would hurt. If he and Kayla fell in love, but she returned to the United States anyway, they would both have broken hearts. With all the hurt and disappointment Mateo had suffered in his life, he wasn’t sure how he would survive losing Kayla as well.

They arrived back at the house and found a delivery truck parked in front of it. A man wearing a logoed jacket stood by the open back, presumably guarding the contents against thieves. Mateo exchanged a glance with Carlos, seeing his confusion mirrored in the older man’s eyes. They hadn’t yet solicited donations to furnish the house, and they certainly hadn’t ordered anything for it. The mission’s budget rarely allowed for the purchase of new items.

Kayla bounded out the front door, her eyes alight with excitement as she joined them. “You’re not going to believe this—I can barely believe it myself—but my father has made a very generous donation to the new children’s home.”

“Oh?” Carlos said, glancing toward the delivery truck.

“I’ve been keeping him updated on the progress we’re making on the house, and last night I sent him an email with a few photos of the finished kitchen.” Kayla clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Apparently he placed an order this morning and arranged to have it delivered.”

“What is it?” Mateo asked, his heart melting at the sight of her joyful countenance. Never had she looked more beautiful.

“Come see.” She grabbed his hand and led him into the house with Carlos close behind.

They had to wait for a pair of deliverymen with a hand truck to pass by; then they continued down the hall to the kitchen. Mateo could barely believe what he saw. A quick glance at Carlos showed the pastor’s eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as he gazed at the kitchen.

A huge stainless steel refrigerator stood against one wall, and a matching range sat waiting to be hooked up. In the center of the floor, two men were assembling what appeared to be a large worktable. Boxes of cabinetry and a pair of countertops stood near the only existing counter, which contained the sink and was too small to be of much use when cooking for a houseful of children.

“Can you believe it?” Kayla said. “He’s outfitted the entire kitchen so it will be ready for anything.”

“This is amazing.” Carlos turned to her with moisture glistening in his eyes. “God will surely bless your father for his generosity.”

Kayla released Mateo’s hand and moved to the pastor, her eyes sparkling. “Just wait until the rest of it gets here. You’ll be speechless.”

“There’s more?”

She nodded and hugged Carlos. “He’s going to send furniture once the rest of the rooms are finished. You’ll only need to supply bedding and dishes and small things like that.”

“We are truly blessed.” Carlos stepped back and moved toward the door. “I must tell Maria.”

Mateo took Kayla’s hand, needing to hold on to something while he recovered from his shock. “Your father...he is a very generous man.”

“Yes, he is.” She gave his hand a squeeze, and then pulled out a folded piece of paper. “He faxed a note to be delivered with the appliances and cabinets. I’ll give it to Carlos and Maria later. You can read it, if you want.”

Mateo unfolded the note and scanned it, his heart squeezing with gratitude and something else he couldn’t identify. Kayla’s father explained that with each update she sent him, he felt led to do something to help the mission. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures of the completed kitchen that he knew what he needed to do. He knew in his heart that God wanted him to provide the things that would be difficult for the mission to get. The note went on to detail what would be arriving and gave contact information for one of Shaw Restoration’s local employees who would help them arrange for future deliveries of furniture as they were ready to put it in the house.

Unable to speak for the emotions roiling through him, Mateo wrapped Kayla in a hug, holding her tightly and silently thanking God for her and her father. She slid her arms around his waist and leaned against him, and he knew it was no use fighting the truth any longer. He loved this woman and wanted her in his life, wherever God chose to lead him.

Before he could figure out what to say, the sound of small running footsteps accompanied by crying raced toward them from the front of the house. Mateo released Kayla and turned toward the door, his heart stopping when a tearful Claudia launched herself toward him and threw her skinny arms around his legs.

He leaned down and hugged her, praying for her as he placed a finger under her chin and nudged her to meet his gaze. “Claudia, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Juan Miguel.” She buried her face against Mateo, muffling her sobs.

Fear raced through him. He knelt and put his hands on the girl’s shoulders, holding her away from him and hoping that by looking him in the eye she would be able to focus on what he needed to know. “Claudia, what’s happened to your brother?”

“Three men came and tried to hurt me, but he stopped them. They started hitting him, and Jorge came to help him and told me to run.” She hiccupped, obviously fighting to stay in control of her emotions. “I hid where they couldn’t see me.”

“Then what happened?” Mateo asked, dread filling him as he caught sight of Kayla kneeling beside him and placing a hand on the little girl’s back.

“They kept hitting Juan Miguel and Jorge,” Claudia said, tears streaming down her cheeks as a sob tore from her throat. “Then one of them pulled out a knife, and Juan Miguel fell down, and they left. He won’t wake up, Mateo. He got stabbed, and he’s bleeding lots, and he won’t wake up!”

She fell sobbing against him, and he held her tightly, closing his eyes against the anger and sadness warring within him.

“What happened?” Kayla whispered, and he remembered that she didn’t speak Spanish.

“Her brother was attacked.” Mateo opened his eyes, seeing the worry in hers and knowing he couldn’t do anything to alleviate it.

One of the men working behind them spoke urgently in Spanish. “Should you go see about the injured child?”

“I’m afraid it is likely too late.” Mateo drew in a long breath and slowly released it. “Claudia, I want you to stay with Kayla while I go see about your brother. Can you tell me where he is?”

She shook her head.

As much as he hated the thought, he only had one other option if he was to find Juan Miguel any time soon. “Can you
show
me?”

Claudia nodded and released him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “He is this way.”

“Wait.” Mateo turned to Kayla, knowing what he was about to ask could kill his chances of a future with her. She hadn’t yet seen the harsh reality the street children faced every day. “I hate to ask, but will you come with us? Claudia will need you to comfort her while I see about her brother.”

“Of course.” She moved to his side without hesitation, and Claudia let go of him to take Kayla’s hand.

“Prepare yourself,” Mateo said, wishing he could protect Kayla from what she was about to see. “From Claudia’s description, her brother is likely dead.”

Kayla gasped and tears filled her eyes, but she nodded and moved toward the door. Mateo glanced over his shoulder at the workman watching with a concerned gaze. The other man remained focused on his task.

“Do you have a moment to help retrieve the body of a street child?” Mateo said, certain the man would refuse.

The concerned workman laid down his screwdriver. “The little girl’s brother?”

“Yes.”

“Lead the way.”

****

Kayla kept Claudia close to her side as they walked through a street that looked worse than the one the mission was on. Mateo and the workman who had volunteered to come along kept an alert eye out for any hint of danger as they headed for the place Claudia had last seen her brother. Seeing more of the neighborhood, the street children called home brought awareness to Kayla of just how bad life was for them. That Mateo didn’t seem particularly horrified by the thought of a nine-year-old being killed was nearly as disturbing. Was the violent death of a street child so common that it only called for resigned sadness?

Claudia suddenly let go of Kayla and ran ahead calling her brother’s name. Jorge rose from where he knelt next to the small body and blocked her from going closer. She struggled against him until Mateo reached them and sent both children to stand with Kayla. The borrowed workman followed Mateo to Juan Miguel, the blanket he’d taken from the back of the delivery truck in hand.

Kayla looked away as they knelt to examine the boy, and her gaze fell on Jorge, who appeared to have been attacked as well. She studied the eye rapidly turning black, the bleeding lip, the way he held an arm to his ribs. Hopefully, he knew a little English. “Are you OK?”

He nodded and glanced back to Mateo and the workman, who were now wrapping Juan Miguel in the blanket.

Kayla blinked away the tears blurring her vision and held Claudia tightly as the little girl cried. No matter how heart breaking the situation was, she had to remain strong for these children who had witnessed and experienced far too much violence in their young lives. Jorge laid a hand on Claudia’s shoulder and spoke to her in a quiet, soothing tone. Kayla had no idea what he said, but the girl nodded as her sobs quieted.

It was a quiet walk back to the mission. Claudia clung to Kayla, and Mateo walked with an arm around Jorge’s shoulders. The workman had volunteered to carry Juan Miguel’s lifeless body.