The Slow Work of God

Casa Hogar is a government-run home in Agua Prieta for children whose parents either do not want them or cannot take care of them. Quite a few of the children tell me that they have siblings who still live with their parents, meaning that they were not among the children their parents chose to keep. The number of children living at the home fluctuates constantly between 20 and 30, and their ages range from tiny infants who have recently been dropped off, to 17-year-olds who will soon age out of the program. Sadly, the kids often have a desire to run away (apparently common among kids in their situation), so the doors have to be locked and the kids have to be monitored whenever they are away from the home. Many of them have had very unstable lives and suffered trauma in their life before, including neglect, abandonment, bullying, and physical and emotional abuse. It makes sense, then, that they tend to struggle academically and behaviorally. For these reasons, a significant number of the kids cannot attend school and are in great need of mentorship and education.

All of this may sound pretty depressing, and it does feel overwhelming at times, but it is so different when you meet the kids in person and get to know them individually. Even though they are sometimes reserved and withdrawn, they are truly some of the loveliest kids I have ever met! And I know a huge reason for that is my friend Marina, who has been visiting the kids and doing classes and activities with them for the last few years. Over the year and a half that I have been going with her to volunteer at Casa Hogar, I have seen Marina’s patience, heartfelt love, and dedication play a significant role in these kids’ lives. 

I walk in the main room one day after tutoring a kid in math (fractions of pizzas) and find Marina praying with the children for their individual needs and intentions. They respect her and look up to her as a source of wisdom, affection, and inspiration. She has a firm love for them; they know she cares about them as she sets boundaries and does not put up with lying, fighting, mischief, or disrespect. Marina is tireless, cheerful, and honest, and treats them with dignity, explaining calmly and gently why they should not hit each other but instead ask the other person to share. She plans activities that they enjoy, such as a fiesta for Children’s Day (see photo) and face-painting, and teaches them things they should know, like the geography of Mexico and the value of perseverance. Sometimes she does story time with the kids, and this 13-year-old boy would come and stand very close to her to see the pictures, as if she was the mother for whom he was longing.

When I first started going to Casa Hogar with Marina, another volunteer warned me that the kids could be aggressive and intense. On any given day, there would be kids fighting, experiencing outbursts of anger, suddenly shutting down, or bullying each other. It still happens now from time to time, but it used to be much more frequent. You can see how they have changed drastically over time, and I know it’s largely because of Marina that these kids are becoming more kind, respectful, mature, and patient. I get to reap the rewards of Marina’s work with the kids. Now, instead of making sour faces or ignoring us, they come cheerfully to hug us (and I hug them back, even when they have cake and frosting all over their face and hands).

These young ones still have a lot of growing to do, but Marina is an instrument of God’s love that transforms them into their better selves. I witness her cooperating in “the slow work of God.” Much work remains to be done to get these kids to their higher potential, but their beautiful souls are shining forth and the healing process has begun. I know a miracle when I see one. Thank you, God, for working through people like Marina to spread love and help others heal and grow. 

Question for Reflection: How have you witnessed the slow work of God around you? How can you hold onto hope when a situation feels overwhelming and hard to change?