Two Nights Ago
Elber, Nilton, Edwin, Julio, Dori and Edward were sound asleep in the shack they had built for themselves out of plastic, cardboard, straw mats, etc. which they had collected from road side garbage dumps over a year before.
Unknown to them, Augusto Cavero, House-Parent of Scripture Union ‘s new Home for Abandoned Boys was out looking for throw-away kids, often found hiding in the desert on dry mountain sides outside the dusty city of Ica.
It was just past midnight when Augusto came across them, huddled together in a crevasse of a desolate area known as Cerro Partido (Split Mountain). They were frightened. They did not believe what he offered them but nothing could be worse than this, so they followed him.
They told him and ‘mama Nancy’ of the not-so-good things they had done to get just enough food to keep alive, how the thing they most valued was water and about the bazooka they had found left behind by soldiers who had been on desert maneuvers. They kept it, as it kind of made them feel safe. (Have you ever read Lord of the Flies?) They told of ‘el accidente’, the day the weapon was accidentally fired, injuring a boy nearby. They told of their fear of being caught and of their promise to each other never to tell who had pulled the trigger.
They were happy in our Casa Girasoles – Ica and enjoyed the October week- long visit of the friends of Cupar, Scotland who through the Vine Trust had provided the funds to make this all happen. They loved the Bible stories, especially the ones of Jesus who knew full well what it was to be cast out, hungry and lonely. They liked the idea that they could talk to him, and most of all that they could tell him of their secret fears, knowing that he’d keep it to himself and tell no one. He knew about the ‘accidente’.
Then, just a few days ago Augusto and Nancy’s worst dreams came true. The dreaded police had caught up with the boys through the office of the State Attorney (Fiscal) with whom we have to register all our boys.
Augusto went to the Police Department and said that although he could not stop them from doing what they wanted to do, he would not let them in the home if they came in uniform, as “that would be showing me, my wife,
and our boys a singular lack of respect.”
It nearly broke their hearts, but Nancy and Augusto had to tell the boys of what at any moment was about to happen. They assured them that wherever they were taken, Jesus would go with them and would listen to them and that their new Mama and Papa would always welcome them back.
Julio said: “You are not to cry, Daddy. Worse things have happened to us before. You and Mama have been so good.”
Edwin, terrified, looked at the others and said, “let’s escape.” “No” they said, “we will all go together. Just remember we will never say who did it. We all did. Remember that.’ They all shook their heads.
Within minutes three officers, dressed in civilian clothing, walked in, apprehended the 6 boys, loaded them in a van and were gone in a cloud of dust.
Mama, Papa Augusto, and 34 boys looked through the windows in silence, each with his own thoughts, his own set of fears, and his own silence.
There may be no laws in place, but we feel we have a right to know where our boys have been taken and what has been done to them. Rumor has it that they are in Maranguita – a dreaded Lima prison, but they refuse to tell us. (One of Chuck Colson’s Prison Fellowship leaders once told me that the worst prison conditions in the world are in the Philippines and Peru.)
It took Augusto no time to find six new abandoned boys, so at the Christmas dinner table Wednesday night all chairs were filled. How can you have 40 spaces taken and yet have 6 empty? All tummies were filled and they all smiled – and even pretended. But, that’s O.K., isn’t it?
On Christmas Eve, shop owners pulled down their shutters, the streets went quiet, abandoned boys went back into their hiding places, church bells rang and marvel of marvels, Emmanuel – God was with us – and somewhere in a dark dungeon on a cold, damp concrete floor Jesus spent Christmas Eve with 6 little boys for whose freedom he gave his own life many years ago on a dry mountain side outside the city walls.
Paul and Marty
Elber, Nilton, Edwin, Julio, Dori and Edward were sound asleep in the shack they had built for themselves out of plastic, cardboard, straw mats, etc. which they had collected from road side garbage dumps over a year before.
Unknown to them, Augusto Cavero, House-Parent of Scripture Union ‘s new Home for Abandoned Boys was out looking for throw-away kids, often found hiding in the desert on dry mountain sides outside the dusty city of Ica.
It was just past midnight when Augusto came across them, huddled together in a crevasse of a desolate area known as Cerro Partido (Split Mountain). They were frightened. They did not believe what he offered them but nothing could be worse than this, so they followed him.
They told him and ‘mama Nancy’ of the not-so-good things they had done to get just enough food to keep alive, how the thing they most valued was water and about the bazooka they had found left behind by soldiers who had been on desert maneuvers. They kept it, as it kind of made them feel safe. (Have you ever read Lord of the Flies?) They told of ‘el accidente’, the day the weapon was accidentally fired, injuring a boy nearby. They told of their fear of being caught and of their promise to each other never to tell who had pulled the trigger.
They were happy in our Casa Girasoles – Ica and enjoyed the October week- long visit of the friends of Cupar, Scotland who through the Vine Trust had provided the funds to make this all happen. They loved the Bible stories, especially the ones of Jesus who knew full well what it was to be cast out, hungry and lonely. They liked the idea that they could talk to him, and most of all that they could tell him of their secret fears, knowing that he’d keep it to himself and tell no one. He knew about the ‘accidente’.
Then, just a few days ago Augusto and Nancy’s worst dreams came true. The dreaded police had caught up with the boys through the office of the State Attorney (Fiscal) with whom we have to register all our boys.
Augusto went to the Police Department and said that although he could not stop them from doing what they wanted to do, he would not let them in the home if they came in uniform, as “that would be showing me, my wife,
and our boys a singular lack of respect.”
It nearly broke their hearts, but Nancy and Augusto had to tell the boys of what at any moment was about to happen. They assured them that wherever they were taken, Jesus would go with them and would listen to them and that their new Mama and Papa would always welcome them back.
Julio said: “You are not to cry, Daddy. Worse things have happened to us before. You and Mama have been so good.”
Edwin, terrified, looked at the others and said, “let’s escape.” “No” they said, “we will all go together. Just remember we will never say who did it. We all did. Remember that.’ They all shook their heads.
Within minutes three officers, dressed in civilian clothing, walked in, apprehended the 6 boys, loaded them in a van and were gone in a cloud of dust.
Mama, Papa Augusto, and 34 boys looked through the windows in silence, each with his own thoughts, his own set of fears, and his own silence.
There may be no laws in place, but we feel we have a right to know where our boys have been taken and what has been done to them. Rumor has it that they are in Maranguita – a dreaded Lima prison, but they refuse to tell us. (One of Chuck Colson’s Prison Fellowship leaders once told me that the worst prison conditions in the world are in the Philippines and Peru.)
It took Augusto no time to find six new abandoned boys, so at the Christmas dinner table Wednesday night all chairs were filled. How can you have 40 spaces taken and yet have 6 empty? All tummies were filled and they all smiled – and even pretended. But, that’s O.K., isn’t it?
On Christmas Eve, shop owners pulled down their shutters, the streets went quiet, abandoned boys went back into their hiding places, church bells rang and marvel of marvels, Emmanuel – God was with us – and somewhere in a dark dungeon on a cold, damp concrete floor Jesus spent Christmas Eve with 6 little boys for whose freedom he gave his own life many years ago on a dry mountain side outside the city walls.
Paul and Marty
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