Genuine Hospitality

The Lord hears the cry of the poor. Blessed be the Lord.

In the Western Highlands of Guatemala one sunny Sunday afternoon I decided to head out of Xela and take a short day trip to the nearby San Marcos. This was my first solo trip exploring outside the city, and I decided to board one of the third class buses a.k.a. the chicken bus. I was ready for a little adventure. I embarked mid-afternoon on a colorful school bus jammed with people like sardines in a can. After sweating two hours as the bus traversed curves and mountains I arrived around four o'clock in San Marcos. A kind young man greeted me as we got off the bus together. He advised me of the last bus back to Xela at six o'clock and recommended a local hotel if I would stay the night. I thanked him and hiked off to explore the town.

I realized that I must soon decide whether to stay in San Marcos for the night or head back to Xela on the last bus. I began searching for a hotel. I had only expected to make a day trip, so I carried very little money when I left Xela. I had about 80 quetzales or 10 dollars. The hotel recommended by the young man was way too expensive at double my money, so I continued searching. As it was starting to get dark I found a small place with simple rooms that I could just afford. Thank heavens for the quiet Hotel Siesta! The receptionist who showed me the hotel and answered my questions was a pleasant young woman named Anita.

It was getting late and my belly was rolling with hunger pangs. I asked Anita if there was an economical restaurant nearby. Since she seemed friendly, I straight out mentioned that I didn’t have much money. Anita then offered me a simple dinner that she could prepare in the hotel restaurant upstairs for a few dollars. After paying for dinner I had the exact amount of money needed for the return bus fare to Xela. "Phewww," I sighed, "things might just work out!"

I was energized and chatty after the search for a hotel in an unfamiliar place, so I talked with Anita in the kitchen as she cooked. I explained that I was a student from the U.S. studying Spanish in Xela and how I am a seminarian. She shared about the long hours she works at multiple jobs and how she is a committed Christian. As she cooked she also softly sang Christian hymns. The music was quite beautiful and I found myself relaxing. Anita was apologetic about the simple food she cooked. I reassured her that I had a big appetite and was really grateful for what she prepared.

Later as we were eating together she said in a simple, genuine, and profound way, “Esta es la comida de los pobres.” “This is the food of the poor.” I was instantly touched inside realizing that she shared with me the heart of Jesus as we ate the meal. How humbled I felt to be in the presence of someone who is poor, hardworking, and very generous, while I am rich, lazy, and in that moment vulnerable with little money! I was moved beyond words. A little later Anita even offered me some of the food she was preparing for her lunch the next day so that I could probar, taste if it was any good. I suspect she had noticed how quickly I had cleared my plate. I relished the meal with gratitude. Anita shared with me much more than money could buy. She taught me profound gratitude, generosity, and how to live in vulnerable poverty with courage and faith.

Back in the States now I feel challenged to live more generously. Perhaps I don't need the indulgence of buying that new gadget or new set of clothes I've been dreaming about. Maybe I could share a couple dollars with the poor man who asks for help as I walk to class. I'm also asking the deeper questions. Why are people poor? What systemic powers keep people from finding a stable livelihood? I wonder if the fact that I have many resources and opportunities in the U.S. could have something to do with why many Guatemalans have so little. I feel a longing in my soul to respond with gratitude to the hospitality Anita showed me when I was a stranger. I believe I can live with more joy and peace by being connected with my sisters and brothers in Guatemala and by living more simply.

The Lord hears the cry of the poor.

Who will hear the cry of the poor?