An hour and a half on a bus united FR and myself with M, a mayan woman with 4 children, no job, no education, and no teeth on the top of her mouth. Dressed in traditional attire, she led us down a steep slope to her home, baby in tow. M´s heart glowed through the intricate weaving of her blouse. She was hospitable and informative, though she needed some help from her second oldest son to provide the details we needed. Their household had 6 people who share 2 rooms, tin walls and roof and dirt floors.
There is a heartbreaking negative correlation between people´s poverty and their generosity here. While this mother was certainly the poorest we had seen, she refused to let us leave without giving each of us a mango, 2 oranges, a Bosco snack cake and a can of coca cola. Climbing the path back up to the road, I was too overwhelmed to speak.
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