Children of the streets

     In the book The Heart and The Fist the author talks about his travels to Santa Cruz, Bolivia. He explains the children of the street as kids that would spend their days shining shoes, begging, selling gum and cigarettes only to return to small cardboard or corrugated metal shelters where they slept. Instantly I connect - once again- with the book.

     During my travels as a private contractor I would stay in the best hotels a third world country would have. If there was a star rating for them, it would of be off the charts. We had internet, t.v. with both local and English channels, heat and air, running water and bathrooms. Most of the places I would work at didn't even have a constructed floor, let alone running water and t.v. I remember staying at one of these fancy hotels, and on my floor their was an amazing balcony that looked over the central area of the capital. It was two roads that met at a T section, running parallel to the top of the T was a railway and running with the base of the T was the Capital building and the U.S. Embassy.  A lovely park and metal art work was planted in between the two government buildings. At night though, when all the lights went out, you would hear the cries from infants going hungry, tourists being mugged, and women being raped. I remember looking down to the front entrance of my hotel from the balcony the first night. I was investigating where the crying from a newborn infant was coming from. I thought it was a family taking an evening stroll, and the young child was tried. I was not in for what I was about to see. Out of no where there were boxes everywhere. Young families lay on the sidewalk begging for money or food. The children not clothed, going without the bare essentials for life. I remember looking at the infant laying by itself on the cold sidewalk. As it laid there screaming - the mother begging for food - I could see the poor things ribs expanding with every screech of discomfort. I started to think of my children and what I would do to keep them from being hungry, cold, sick or in pain. I would do the exact same thing the mother was doing, and probably more. It makes you think of how privileged we are and thing small things we take for granted. Eventually the mother and child crawled into their cardboard box once the streets were empty of tourist traffic. I wish I would have done something more than just looking down at them now. I actually feel horrible for not. I went back into my first class hotel and fell asleep. I understand you can not help everyone, but I have probably helped more people that didn't deserve it compared to this small family. I just pray god looks at the good I have done and forgives me for not putting any effort into helping them that night.