A Padrino Visit

"Hey Benja, guess what!"

"I don't know, what?"

Her eyes, wide and squinty from the big smile she was trying to hide, let me know. She's never this excited it seems, not for Christmas, not for Olympiadas, definitely not for classes.

"Rupert's coming! Next week he gets here. My Padrino's gonna be here for Christmas, he's coming to see me!"

•••

It was a busy day at the airport. Plenty of Hondurans waiting with smiles on their faces, waiting to see loved ones, waiting to reunite with their family. But the light, falling into shadows here and there, beamed on a young lady, her brown toboggan and dark black hair glisten just a bit. Her smile reflects the sun everywhere and the whole scene lightens. The screen on the wall says that the flights from the US have landed...she knows exactly what that means.

"Rupert! Rupert!" she yelled.

"Mario!" "Alicia!" shouted others all round. "Toño!" "Maria!"

"Rupert! Rupert!" as she shouts and jumps the doors opened, people streamed out and the families waited patiently behind the little railing.

Amidst all the people walking a man rolled with his balding head and strong hands. As he moved through the door, lord knows that little railing wouldn't keep her from jumping over. And then "oomph!" And his smile broadened to show a tender love that each and every one of you should experience at least once in your life.

"Wendy, how good to see you!"

"Rupert, Rupert, I'm so happy to see you"

•••

A few nights later at the Christmas Eve Bonfire we three sat together watching the flames rise higher and higher.

After a time, I asked Rupert about their relationship and how it grew.

"At first I know that the Tías and Volunteers wrote the letters, but I could hear her voice come through the words. When I first decided to be a Padrino I also decided to learn Spanish, since then I've studied and written and read all our letters in Spanish."

Wendy gave him a flame lit smile and said "Rupert, I really do love you. I'm really happy to see you and feel so happy to be with you."

When they began their relationship Wendy was only 4 years old. She came here to NPH Honduras two years before after both her parents died of terminal diseases. NPH is her home and her family, and since that first communication with her German Padrino, Rupert, he has been a part of that family.

"As she grew and began to write, I could see that she wrote the cards, and I got a lot of joy to read them. But with such a large distance between us I never waited to get her next one to send her mine. I would write two or three and send them as soon as they were ready. And as soon as I got her letters I knew that she really cared."

•••

"We've gotten to spend some wonderful time here together. This is my eighth or ninth trip, but I hadn't come for two years because I wanted Wendy to have the chance to grow and have the space that she needed as an adolescent" Rupert said. We were alone at Casa Eva where he stayed. The lights, all artificial now because the sun had sunk down and Wendy gone to do more work before bed.

"She's tired, I can see it in her eyes" he said.

"But she cares. She takes you everywhere, brings food when you can't go and makes sure that you're always included in the activities. She loves you so much. And because of that she keeps going, keeps doing everything because that's how much she cares, how much you mean to her."

•••

When it came time for Rupert to leave, it appeared very much the same as he came, only in reverse. Wendy, hugging him, shouting his name, waving goodbye. "I miss him, Benja"

"I know, but he really loves you."

It’s that love, that connection over these past 14 years that makes this so special. Rupert comes here—to the other side of the world without a single expectation, only hopes and dreams. And they all come true. Like a fairy tale, these two people have grown so close together that they know what they want and need. They love and have loved, they've laughed and cried, and when the tears subside they still find it all so amusing.

When you wonder what it takes to be a Padrino for a child of NPH, when you wonder what it means to really care for someone, look to Rupert and look to Wendy. There, you will see how their relationship through years of open communication and caring letters, through hugs and tears, through wounds and stories of the other children, through the visits for Olympiadas, through the years of growing and learning, through all this Wendy and Rupert have found the truth of what it means to be a Padrino or Ahijada (goddaughter).

Here at NPH, Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos, a home for orphaned and abandoned children; we seek Padrinos and Madrinas; God-Parents to sponsor our children and be a light in their life where darkness once took hold. Rupert has been just that for Wendy, and there are many many others like these two.