Faith: Chapter 3

Be gentle with the young.
- Juvenal

Gabe rose at six o’clock as he did every morning. It was becoming more routine, less of a struggle. The sounds of happy, laughing children were always there to greet him, and on most days, he woke with a smile. It was Thursday - the day he could guarantee emails from Alex and Belle would be waiting in his inbox.

He showered quickly, carefully avoiding the large spider that had apparently decided it liked the cool cement in there, and also didn’t mind being wet. Of course, water pressure wasn’t the best either, so the spider didn’t get too wet. Gabe and other members of his team had named the arachnid, and their pet came up frequently over breakfast as a favorite topic of conversation. They had chosen what they hoped was a random Spanish name, praying that none of the kids they met at the orphanage were named Jorge. Luckily, none were, so Gabe didn’t feel too badly.

Being surrounded by Costa Rican culture had been amazing so far. Gabe had so immersed himself in the language that he found himself speaking Spanish to all his English-speaking teammates, and correcting faulty pronunciation, to the point where others were annoyed. His team - himself and six others - had bonded well enough. They worked well together, but the leader was extremely set in his ways and determined about how things ought to go day to day.

Most days, Gabe had breakfast, and then had morning devotions with the team, and some quiet time. Then, he worked with the construction guys, digging holes for fence posts and sidewalks, mowing the grass, sanding walls of unfinished buildings, and anything else that needed doing. The previous morning, he had assembled a ceiling fan, and took all the bones out of the chicken that the host mother was planning to make that afternoon.

They also rested for a while in the afternoon. When Gabe couldn’t sleep, he read or emailed friends, or played Spanish Scrabble against more fluent team members.

After resting, his entire afternoon was spent with the children in the orphanages. Some of the girls spent both morning and afternoon there. If he could, Gabe was sure, he would have done that, too. But he knew the construction crew needed help, and he wanted to be available to do whatever God wanted him to.

But Gabe also missed home. He missed his friends. He even missed snow! More than anything, he missed being around people he knew, who knew him. Gabe loved knowing that, back home, his friends were praying for him, and that God had blessed him with a way to stay in touch with them - though admittedly, he didn’t have as much time as he would have liked to check and answer emails.

“Buenas dias!” he greeted cheerfully, sitting down at the picnic table on the front porch where they ate their meals. Bypassing the sugar-cereals they had been asked to bring, Gabe opted for mango and papaya. He smiled, thinking of the email he had sent Alex the other day, detailing all the different kinds of fruit here - including a particularly strange thing called eyeball fruit. He figured Alex of all people, would appreciate that piece of knowledge.

“Did you see Jorge?” a young member of his team asked. She was eleven, and had come with her father. She was a blonde, sunny-faced girl named Cheyanne.

“I did see Jorge. He’s alive and well.” Gabe answered.

The mornings were so pure in Costa Rica. Not like in the States where everything was hurried, and work was a burden. Here, Gabe found, he never woke up tired. There was something about knowing you were right where God wanted you to be, doing what He called you to do that made it impossible to feel anything but joyful and at peace.

Of course, there were trials. Their team leader was uptight, and didn’t like surrendering control. When Gabe offered to take over, or moved onto something else when his first work project was completed, he often had an impromptu meeting where he was told to stick to the schedule. Those were the times Gabe felt insecure where he was.

Belle was actually the only person he ever voiced his doubts to about overseas travel. He remembered telling her he wasn’t sure he would have much to give. She had listened, and shared with him that she had experienced similar feelings. But she had also encouraged him, and told him in no uncertain terms, that he would be a blessing whatever he did. He was grateful to have a friend like her.

He couldn’t wait to check his email, knowing that Thursday was the day both Belle and Alex emailed him. Every once in a while there was an extra one in his inbox too, which made him happy.

Today, when Gabe checked his mail, it seemed like all of his friends wrote him. Even ones he hadn’t expected to hear from, like Josh and Mikhail, had written. He read Alex’s response to his most recent email first and smiled. He knew he wasn’t going to have the chance to write back to everyone individually, so instead, he decided a mass email would have to do.

Quickly, he reread the messages from Mikhail and Josh, to be sure he referred to them all individually at least once.

To: “Gabe Sanchez” Sanchez.Gabriel@hotmail.com
From: “Mikhail Eltsin” mikhail@eltsin.com

Gabe,

How are you? How is your trip? Everything is good for me. Alyona’s growing more every day. She’ll be very big when you see her next time. Will you be here for the party? We’ll love to see you. Week before Christmas, or sometime like that. Take care.

Mikhail

To: “Gabe Sanchez” Sanchez.Gabriel@hotmail.com
From: “Joshua Meyer” JoshTheHobbit14@yahoo.com

Hey Gabe.

So guess what? We don’t know if Katerina’s coming home this Christmas. She’s very busy in nursing school and working at the nursing home nearby. I miss her so much though, and really need my big sister around, especially during the holidays. I don’t know if you really get that, since you’re an only child, but it’s hard. Plus, my mom misses her. Please pray that she can come home. If she stays at school and studies, it’ll be so boring for her. And I don’t think Mom would want to drive on the icy roads all the way to her school to have Christmas there. Even though I wouldn’t mind. Katerina likes helping me (not that my mom doesn’t, but it can be a lot for one person to do, so she kind of looks forward to a break when Katerina comes home.) So please pray about that, because I really miss her, and I haven’t seen her since the summer. I hope everything is going great for you in San Jose. Things here are cold, but good. Other than the thing with my sister. School is going fine. Boring, though. I can’t wait for winter break.

Josh

To: “Melissa Bryant” MLBRYANT@officeadmin.com, “Alexandra R. Craig” ARCangel@hotmail.com, “Mikhail Eltsin” mikhail@eltsin.com, “Joshua Meyer” JoshTheHobbit14@yahoo.com, “Belle Sutton” SuoSoleBella@aol.com
From: “Gabe Sanchez” Sanchez.Gabriel@hotmail.com

Dear Missy, Alex, Mikhail, Josh and Belle,

Wow, do I ever feel popular! I had emails from all of you today. I hope none are offended that I’m sending back a mass reply - I just don’t have time to do five. How did Bible study go tonight?

Today has been great. Did I tell you guys about Jorge? (That’s George, for you non-Spanish speakers.) He’s the spider that lives in our shower. I see him every morning and say hello. Belle, we’ll trade pictures, okay? ‘Cause I have to take a picture of this guy and send it to you. Hope you’re not too grossed out! By the way, I heard you brought someone new last week. Greta? How do you know her? Did she like it? I’m sure your hair looks beautiful, by the way. I always thought you’d look very nice with dark hair. You could never frighten me.

Missy, I adjusted to Costa Rican time very quickly, thank you for the prayers about that. I get up at 6 every day, and feel refreshed and ready to go. It’s nice. Pray for team unity, and for my pride. Honestly, I don’t like having to answer to Brent, since we’ve known each other forever. It’s just strange looking to him as any type of authority. Not that I don’t respect him, because I do. It’s just been difficult to keep a humble attitude about things, when we’re always meeting about the same stuff. Sorry for being vague. It’s sort of embarrassing.

Don’t worry, Alex, I won’t smuggle any eyeball fruit outside the country. Security is so tight these days I would never try! Wouldn’t want them to be confiscated! That would be horrible. Did I tell how cold the plane was on the way over? Freezing. I’m asking for extra blankets on the ride back. But today’s weather is beautiful again. The sweat is rolling off me. Seriously, it is. What I wouldn’t give for some snow! I know, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I honestly miss it. I don’t think we ever see 26-degree weather. It would probably kill Jorge… Not good.

I really hope to be home for yours and Maria’s Christmas party, Mikhail. I always look forward to it! Right now, I’m scheduled to be back on the 16th of December, so I hope that’s early enough! Give Alyona some love for me. All the little kids here remind me of her. Kind of funny how kids are the same wherever you go in the world, isn’t it?

Josh, I will pray for your sister to be able to come home for Christmas. I know how close you two are. It has to be hard to be away from her for so much of the year. Is it her workload? What’s keeping her there? Oh, well. God knows. I’ll just pray and believe she’ll come back. You do that, too. It will work out.

I love you guys! Give my love to everybody, okay? I can’t believe I’m already half done with my time here. It has flown by.

We’ll have Costa Rican coffee when I come back! It’s so much better than anything in the States…

Love and many prayers,
Gabe

Looking at his watch, Gabe knew he had spent too much time in front of the computer. He had meant to rest, but hadn’t been able to get his friends off his mind, and it always felt so good to keep in touch with them.

Gabe prayed as he walked down the sidewalk to one of the houses where many of the orphaned children lived. “God, thank You for letting me hear from so many friends today. And Lord I just pray that You would bless my time with the kids this afternoon. Comfort them and fill their hearts with Your love, Father, and let them know that they are not alone here…” Gabe trailed of when he saw the team leader ahead of him, and tried to keep a good attitude.

Brent was wearing a hat that said The Boss on it, and it was obvious to Gabe and everyone else that this was how Brent saw himself. His name brand jeans looked ragged, and his jersey had dirt on it. Gabe didn’t know why anyone would buy new clothes to go on a mission trip. It seemed wrong.

“Hey,” he greeted easily.

Brent studied Gabe critically. “You know that Tom and Lydia let us use the office computer as a courtesy. They don’t have to let us use it at all.”

Gabe put his hands up, trying to explain himself. “I know I’m late, but it’s not even five minutes.”

“Look,” Brent said sharply. He dropped his voice, “If I wanted excuses, I’d talk to Cheyanne. You’re, what, twenty?”

“Twenty-one,” Gabe admitted, trying not to feel ashamed. “I understand. There is no excuse, and I apologize.”

“All right. If you get done with something ahead of time, come find me, and I’ll find out what you should be doing.” Brent added importantly.

Clenching his teeth, Gabe nodded, trying to remember that though he had known Brent through church for quite a few years, and had been friends with him, now he was an authority figure. He breathed, and tried to remember that he was there to serve, and ignored the thoughts that he could just as easily ask what he was to do next. He did his best to control his own temper and tongue.

Continuing on, Gabe made it to the house, praying all the way that God would deliver him from his own pride - and fast. He didn’t want to bring his own baggage into a room full of children who needed his attention, and ladies that needed an extra pair of hands.

Like the gracious God Gabe knew Him to be, He delivered Gabe quickly, and by the time he reached the door of the house, he was contrite.

There were children everywhere inside. Most ran around and climbed on him happily, chanting, “Caballo!” and waiting for Gabe to take off like an untamed horse, bucking and neighing while they giggled and held on tight to his shirt. Happy to oblige them, Gabe took off wildly around the room, careful to avoid the shyer children who weren’t as ready to play.

It was no secret, though, that Gabe was far more drawn to the children who couldn’t come out to play with the rest - at least not without help. There were several kids - some babies, some bigger children - who because of physical conditions couldn’t readily join in. Some slept. Some smiled. Some cried. Some just seemed withdrawn and lost.

It was a child like this that Gabe kept returning to. Macario was four years old. He was small for his age, and barely made a sound. He looked at the wall or the ceiling, and seemed constantly tired. Physically, he couldn’t even sit up without help, and seemed behind verbally and in other ways. But Gabe didn’t mind. And the house ladies certainly didn’t mind. They loved seeing someone take time for him.

Just like every other day, Gabe took Macario out on the porch and sat with him. He let the child lay across his lap and gaze up at him, and after a few minutes, Gabe would start talking to him. Already, he was seeing progress. Macario was smart. He could imitate sounds. True, they weren’t words yet, and Gabe didn’t know if his little friend necessarily understood what he was hearing or was just copying, but progress was progress.

“Hola,” Gabe said quietly.

From his lap, Macario smiled a little. “Oh. Ah.”

Gabe spent his entire two hours visiting with Macario. He made a conscious effort, though, not to neglect the other kids, who came to find him, wanting his attention, or helping Cheyanne break up a fight over a toy, by telling her how to say “You need to share,” in Spanish. Luckily, at eleven, Cheyanne had a great ear, and could pronounce even short phrases perfectly after hearing them only once.

Luckily, Gabe never had to refer to Brent that afternoon. Unlike grunt work, spending time with kids wasn’t something with a start and a finish. He could stay there day and night, and would, if he was ever asked.

--

That evening, Gabe and his team went out to a local pizza place. He was instantly pleased to see the sign adorning the cash register, boldly declaring that “Jesus was Lord of this business.” Gabe went inside with Brent, Cheyanne, her dad, Bill, and other team members Christian, Megan and Alyssa. One of the children also came along. Juan-Carlos was a precocious seven-year-old who talked with Gabe at length about anything and everything, while the other team members conversed with each other.

Gabe was sorry that Macario remained behind, but tried to occupy Juan-Carlos while they waited for their pizza. When Juan-Carlos got antsy, Gabe took him outside and timed how fast the boy could run around the building. Then, Gabe brought him back to the table and showed him how to make a hat by folding his paper placemat.

As always, Gabe could feel Brent watching him, but forced himself to ignore it. After all Elena, one of the women who worked at the houses, and took care of the children was there, too. He hadn’t seen anything but smiles from her.

Their pizza came, and Gabe ate hungrily. As much as he loved Costa Rican food, he missed the familiarity of stuff back home. He remained largely unaware of the English conversation around him, and instead had fun talking to Juan-Carlos about soccer, and anything else he seemed interested in.

Gabe never asked what circumstances brought Juan-Carlos to the orphanage. He knew it wasn’t his place. Even though Juan-Carlos seemed well-adjusted, Gabe knew better than to assume that all was fine with him.

Gabe was still in deep thought, when he suddenly felt cold and damp. He glanced up suddenly, and saw Alyssa apologizing profusely.

Alyssa was nineteen, and as inexperienced as he felt on the mission field. Unfortunately she was also a bit of a klutz, and was known already for making more than one unwise decision since they had arrived. Still Gabe knew the spill wasn’t intentional.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, trying in vain to mop up the soda that was cascading across the table and into his lap.

Belatedly, Gabe jumped up, and backed off, looking startled. “It’s okay,” he managed.

He stared down at himself. He’d worked all morning in his jeans, but they had still been passable for an evening out. He had changed his shirt to something nicer. Now, both were stained with bright orange Fanta. He’d been planning on wearing the jeans another day, and giving the shirt to one of the construction workers, who had commented on it early in the trip. Now, he could do neither one.

They returned to the house, and Gabe reluctantly changed into pajama pants and a tee shirt before they had devotions. Luckily that night, there was little formality in their meeting. Just testimony-sharing, and then they were excused to break into pairs and talk or pray with each other about what was going on in their lives.

Gabe sought out Christian - a quiet seventeen-year-old, and left Brent to pair with Bill and the girls with one another. Christian wasn’t talkative, but Gabe didn’t mind. Usually, if someone was looking for him, he could easily be found on the porch of the house, playing guitar and praying.

Early on, Gabe discovered that Christian loved the mountains and everything about the Costa Rican landscape. He was the only one who wasn’t looking forward to their day off toward the end of the trip, when they would relax at a beach. Christian preferred to work. If he wasn’t working, he preferred to just be still.

“Nice pajamas,” he commented, as Gabe followed him outside.

“Thanks, I know.” Gabe looked down at his sweats and tee shirt. “So how was today?” he wondered.

“It was great,” Christian admitted softly, pushing his blond hair out of his eyes. “We made a lot of progress on the outside. Only thing is trying to keep the kids away when we’re working. They always want to play, and it’s dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Gabe agreed. Juan-Carlos was quite notorious for darting very near a hole so he could look down into it.

“How about you?” Christian wanted to know. “How’s Macario? I tried to hang out with him, but he seemed pretty out of it.”

“He was cool,” Gabe smiled. “He said hi to me. Well…not quite. And…I had to tell Manuela not to eat the mangos on the ground again.”

“Why does she do that?” Christian asked, laughing softly.

“I have no idea. Every time I see it, I just wanna go get her a fresh one.” Gabe laughed.

“How’d you get so good at Spanish?” Christian asked, thinking of the many times he had heard Gabe admonish or praise a child in their own language.

Gabe shrugged. “I took it in high school. Plus, I’m a little Mexican,” he admitted.

“How can you be a little Mexican?” Christian looked at Gabe strangely.

“I meant, like, half or something. I don’t know the exact percentage. We should probably pray or something, though.”

“Can we just praise God?” Christian asked gently. “It’s all I want to do.”

Gabe nodded, smiling, pushing every request out of his mind - vowing to pray for his friends and himself before he fell asleep.

As it was here, worship drew a crowd, and soon all the praying pairs came to the porch and joined them. Brent cut them off when it was time to head to bed, and Gabe was grateful, though it was only 10 PM.

He lie awake a long time that night, without knowing why. Gabe thought of the kids, and prayed for each of them, trying to recall each face and name. He prayed for his teammates and for Brent. He prayed that Katerina would be able to come home for Christmas, and for himself, that his pride would stay in check.

He didn’t fall asleep until after midnight. Gabe knew he would regret it in the morning, but he could never quench his own desire to pray.

--

Taking a deep breath, Belle opened her eyes. She knew what she had to do. Opening the medicine cabinet, she quickly disregarded her mom’s prescription pills and the Tylenol. Instead, she took the box of sinus headache medicine.

It was something she took often, and she knew it would work. Trying to move quickly and see through tears, Belle expertly got the medicine out of its packaging. Time slowed to a crawl.

She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to feel. Everything was so painful, Belle felt like she was drowning. Her happiness, she was sure, had always been fake. Now that she knew the truth, Belle knew she had no choice.

Without thinking, she took the small orange pills two at a time. Words echoed on a loop in her mind. “Permanent solution. Temporary problem.” Whoever came up with that hadn’t ever stood where she stood, never knew what it was like to feel truly hopeless.

Belle couldn’t keep track of how much she swallowed, just kept going until she found herself disoriented and sweating. She gripped the sink and felt herself sway dangerously.

Suddenly, fear seized her heart, as it beat crazily in her chest. She didn’t want to do this. But it was too late. She tried to call for her mom, but her mouth felt dry as sandpaper and her voice didn’t work. Belle’s stomach cramped painfully, and she prayed she would vomit, but nothing happened, and her pain intensified.

--

Sherry was just about to turn off the lights and close her book. It had taken a long time to unwind after the confrontation with Belle. It made her mad thinking about it. She entertained the thought of checking on Belle but dismissed the idea, figuring that by now Belle had exhausted herself and was sound asleep. The room was cloaked in peaceful darkness when Sherry heard the sound. A sickening thud.

Getting up quickly, she rushed into her daughter’s room. She looked around, taking it all in quickly. The spiritual messages up on the wall, the pink carpeting, the bed - fully made.

Instinctively, Sherry headed for Belle’s bathroom. She pushed the door open, falling back against it as she registered what was happening.

The bathroom was a mess. Crumpled tissues were everywhere. Wrappers of some kind littered the counter. The light above the sink was on, casting everything in an unreal fluorescent glow. The fan was on and the water was running in the sink. Belle’s make up was still strewn across its surface. Her pink cell phone was also there, playing an annoying tone over and over, signifying that she had a voice mail unchecked.

Belle was on the ground, where she’d fallen a minute earlier. Her face was flushed, contorted, and shown with perspiration. Her body lay in an unnatural position. She still had her shoes on, and her hair was still done, though it had started to fall out of its ponytail and hung loosely around her face.

It wasn’t until Sherry heard Belle make a strange gasping noise and watched helplessly as her daughter’s body was thrown into convulsions that Sherry knew, though she didn’t want to believe it.

Belle had tried to take her own life.

Feeling angry and terrified, Sherry cursed for the first time in years. Belle was all she had. She couldn’t lose her. Not right now, and not like this. Belle had been raised in the church from the time she was in the womb. She knew suicide was sinful. She knew that it was the Lord who gave and took away. She never thought her only daughter would go against her Lord and Savior this way.

Sherry was incredulous. She’d never expected this. Belle knew better. She’d seen what suicide could do to a family. Back home, their neighbor of many years ended his own life when Belle was a toddler. It had taken her years to come to grips with it. When she’d been older, Sherry had explained what happened. Belle had been nearly sick with grief. Why had he done it? He was her friend. Like any third-grader, she had been quick to blame herself. Was it the time when she picked flowers from his garden when he told her not to? Was it all the times she was too loud, or the time she played in his car when he was watching her. Though five years had passed, she had poignant memories - not only of possible causes for his despair, but of all the happy times he’d given her.

Closing her eyes, Sherry heard her daughter’s voice echo in her mind: “How could anyone be too sad to live?”

What sadness had Belle known? Certainly nothing like their elderly neighbor, who lost his wife of nearly 70 years. She was smart; she had friends; she had people who loved her. Sherry couldn’t make sense of it. Thoughts were rushing through her mind as she moved to act quickly before too much time passed.

Running for the phone, Sherry returned to Belle, and carefully turned her on her side, placing a towel beneath her head so she wouldn’t hurt it while her body jerked uncontrollably. From her position on the floor, Sherry finally saw the box in the trash can beneath the sink. The sinus headache medicine she regularly bought for her child - had just gotten the previous day, at Belle’s request. Now, the box lay empty in the garbage. Feeling nauseous, Sherry dialed for help.

“Why did you do this?” Sherry wept, as she waited for an emergency operator to pick up her call. “Honey, why would you do this? Breathe, baby… Breathe for Mom.”

“This is 911. Do you have an emergency?”

“Yes! This is Sherry Sutton. My daughter overdosed…”