“Este es la amor de Jesus”

Everyone was standing on the gravel road outside the houses
a waiting the rest of our group. Gym-shorts were on everyone and spirits within
were high for some exercise that was slightly overdue. Saturday nights are
family stadium nights.

Walking along the narrow streets that I am beginning to
become very familiar with is a comfort of sorts. The crazy traffic and vibrant
house colors strike a pose mimicking the culture of the Dominicans (loud and
proud). In contrast, the mountains in the background constantly radiate an aura
of humble beauty and peace that is as old as the mountains themselves. Becoming
used to this city is like seeing a painting over and over so many times you
forget that it’s a masterpiece.

As we continued to make our way to our destination, I looked
back at the other half of the group and saw that we had gained two new friends.
Santos (10), and Arial(12) carry
boxes under either arm, a constant reminder of what they did to survive along
with the over-sized, torn, and dirty clothes gave away their identity in this
society. These boys are just two of the many shoe shiners that I have personally
met and made friends with in S.J.

Many are required to walk into the city by their parents to
help earn money for the family to eat. Most that I have met do go to school and
have time to enjoy a Dominican favorite, baseball, but walking around the city
searching for clients takes most of their hours. Other FYM’s and myself have specific
hearts for these kids. We not only desire to provide what we can for them
materially (new clothes and shoes, food) but by befriending them we desire to
help them know the love of Jesus.

I slowed down so that I could walk alongside these boys and
learn their names. After asking their names they in turn asked me a question “can
you buy me some food?” AIM’s policy for hand-outs is that it shouldn’t be in
money form, but food is always given. So we stopped at a corner shop and got
some food to go.

The boys were having a hard time eating and carrying their
boxes at the same time so I asked to carry Santos
box. As I asked for it, Arial told me that I should not carry it. Puzzled, I
asked. “But why shouldn’t I carry it?”, “Because its shameful. Those who carry
it are shamed.” This reply I understood, and yet I never thought about. They
are shoe shiners. They clean the crap that others step in. If the DR has a cast
system, these boys are the bottom.

His reply made me even more determined to carry his box. So
I looked into Santos eyes and asked
him again “puedo cargar este?”. He nodded and gave it up with a smile. As I
took it I wondered how long it had been carried that day, but this thought was
cut short as Arial reminded me again how I was bringing shame upon myself.

We came to a group of men sitting on the side of the road
playing dominos. They were all laughing and talking loudly…until we walked up, then
everyone got dead silent. I said hello and the oldest of them, probably in his
40’s, he replied with a grunt. I took it as “what do you want American?” but as
we continued walking two teens came up and started to talk to Arial. As I
watched and listened one turned and said to me in a cocky way, “Are you going
to clean my shoes?” I just smiled and said “Of course!” With a smile, I turned
and kept walking.