There’s something I’ve wanted to write about for a long time now, but I wasn’t sure where to start. In the village where Manuel and I regularly translate lives a family that has come to be very special to us-a grandfather, a grandmother, a son and a daughter, and four grandchildren. And though they do not share our faith, we love them and have lived life with them-making tortillas, picking coffee, eating hamburgers, helping with homework, playing soccer. About a year ago, this family began to pass through some hard times. First, an uncle died. Then, Benito and Luz (the grandparents) had an accident which totaled the pick-up they use for farm work and put Luz in the hospital in the city. During this time, the family found out that Luz had cancer in her liver. God sent a blessing her way in the form of Myrtle, a cancer survivor who came down for the first time to the village on one of the teams. I translated in the hospital as Myrtle talked to Luz, telling her what to expect from chemotherapy and encouraging her with Scripture and her own story of how she survived cancer. Luz had tears running down her cheeks as she told Myrtle that to see her had given her hope that she could someday be whole and happy again like Myrtle was. When our visit was done, Manuel went in and shared the gospel with her, to which she responded, “How could I not believe that?”
A couple months later in June, we returned to the village with a group from the States. Luz was home from the hospital and we took whatever opportunity we could to love and serve their family. On Saturday morning of our visit, we heard an announcement over the village loudspeaker and the bells at the church ring. Benito’s mother had passed away. Yet another hardship had come their way.
The last time I saw Luz was the day we left the village, when we dropped her and Benito off at a tiny house on the outskirts of the city where she would stay during her treatment. We hugged her and waved goodbye, promising to pray for her. She looked pale, shrunken, and tired, but peaceful. I really thought I would see her again after that last visit, but Luz passed away at the end of July, just five months after finding out about the cancer. Will I see her again in eternity? I have good reason to hope I will. In the meantime, the daily tasks of life will surely swallow me up in their mundaneness and sadly fade my memory of the time I spent with her. But I know I can find her again in the faces of her daughter and granddaughter, the face of a friend I had for only a short time.
casa ramirez 