In the July 28 entry I told of a boyfriend who had gone on a rampage. We now know a little more of the story. A few weeks before we came into the story, the boyfriend’s thirteen year-old son had been shot at the door of the house where we later visited. There was a knock at the door, he opened it to a fourteen year-old boy, who shot him and ran. The fourteen year-old was later caught; he explained he had made a mistake, that he had been sent to kill someone else–all part of a drug war. The young mother living in the house, the woman I called Mattie in the July 28 entry, has disappeared.
I hesitated telling that story, but I think it will help us all to understand the need for Guadalupe House. The morning after I returned from my trip to the South, I went to Guadalupe House to see all the improvements made during my absence. I sat near the picture window looking out on the backyard and watched three little girls playing on the swingset. Two were Alicia’s daughters, but the third was the older daughter of our first resident. I’ve never seen anyone look happier on a swingset. It reminded me of another little girl, the daughter of Mary, one of the first mothers we ever helped. A couple of times I was able to take her daughter to swing, and she could never get enough of it. She would put her head back and smile, never wanting to stop. The head of that little girl is now full of lice, and has been for quite a while. Yes, we have given shampoos to the mother–but the mother has given up on that battle.
