What is it like to be forgotten? Who are the forgotten?
This week I came to know another one of the forgotten children of Mexico. His name is Jesus Antonio. His mom Isabel is from Oaxaca, his dad Jorge is from Chiapas. He was born 2 & 1/2 months premature, although he was healthy and normal. His sisters love & adore him, and do to his premature birth his stature is small.
Almost three weeks ago he started to run a high fever. After a night of no sleep, and fever, his parents took Jesus to the General Hospital of Ensenada. This is the lone hospital available for the uninsured, its clean but under-equipped to handle the amount of people & types of ailments.
Jesus was prescribed a (Children’s Tylenol type) medicine, although he wasn’t really checked out, and immediately released.
After a couple of days Jesus started having difficulty breathing, (the fever had not subsided) and his parents took him to the hospital again. Released again.
Then he started experiencing convulsions, and his parents immediately rushed him back to the hospital. They administered a sedative, diagnosed him as suffering from pneumonia, and told his parents that he probably wouldn’t survive.
Two weeks passed, Jesus remained asleep (no drugs, just oxygen & IV), and his parents waited & hoped for a miracle.
Jorge came by the EOC after the first week, asking if we had any work (we have known him & his family for many years, and he often helps with our cement projects). We said no.
After the second week of waiting, he came by the EOC again, asking if we could loan him $6,000 pesos (the equivalent of 2 months work), because his son was in the hospital in grave condition.
Our Executive Leadership Team met that morning, and decided to visit him in the hospital & consider prayerfully giving the money (we don’t make loans, we give with no strings attached). Before Juan, Alex and I (Scott) left for the hospital, God had already provided the $ through the generosity of our staff.
As we arrived at the hospital, and greeted Jorge & Isabel, their exhaustion & desperation was clearly evident. They had been at the hospital for 15 days straight, with little rest or food. Their beloved son lay in the pediatric ward, with supervision, but no real testing or treatment. No studies had been performed. The money was needed for a brain scan, since he had essentially been comatose for two weeks.
As I entered the pediatric ward to see Jesus, I was taken back by his tiny stature (he was 7 & 1/2 months old but looked like three-four months). As I touched his little foot, he immediately responded to touch. I laid my hand on his chest and prayed, and imagined how I would feel if he were my own.
As we gave Jorge & Isabel the money, they rushed off to the clinic to pay for the brain scan.
Since we realized that they had essentially been camped out at the hospital for a couple of weeks with little to no resources, we gave them some extra $ and promised to bring breakfast the following day.
As I arrived the following morning with a hearty breakfast Ana had prepared, along with an offering from our staff, I could see hope in their eyes, as finally something was being done. The scan had taken place late the prior evening, and medicine was now being administered.
At four the next morning, Friday the 15th of October, 2010; Jesus Antonio Aguilar took his final breath.
As I drove a van full of relatives from the government funeral center to the municipal cemetery, I was shocked as the cemetery for the forgotten doubles as a trash dump. How heartbreaking it was for the family, realizing that this was to be the final resting place for the remains of their son. A burn pile sat 10 feet from the hole dug by shovel. Here Jorge, Isabel and family said their final goodbye’s. I stood next to Jesus’ sister Ruth (who we have watched grow up through EOC supported feeding programs) as the hole was being filled in. I thought how surreal this all must have been for her.
As we left, a simple dirt lump is the only sign of a burial site (aside from the flowers left behind). The family may bring a cross or other marker at a later point, although as I gazed around this cemetery, most sites are only recognizable by a small mound of dirt.
This is where the Forgotten end up.
While I know Jesus Antonio is in the presence of the Lord, I am seeking the Lord’s will in the midst of this loss. I do not believe that God makes bad things happen, however He has a hope & plan throughout all circumstances. So I’m asking of him, “what is your will Lord, through the life & death of Jesus Antonio?”
I have stated that the calling I have recognized in my life is to Love the Forgotten. Jesus Antonio represents the Forgotten. He was forgotten by society, he was forgotten by the health care system, his body is buried in a forgotten graveyard that many use as a trash dump.
I don’t want to Forget him. I want Jesus Antonio to be a reminder of the work that remains to be done. How many more Forgotten children, men & women are there in Ensenada, Mexico, Latin America & the World?
Let us not Forget! For if we don’t remember the Forgotten, when & how will they know the Love of Jesus? We haven’t been Forgotten, better still, we know that NO ONE has been Forgotten by our Lord Jesus.
Remember, we are His ambassadors, as though he were making his appeal through us. Let’s remember the Forgotten. Let’s remember the Jesus Antonio’s of this world. Let’s transform this world, as our lives are transformed.
We’ve got so much to do, let’s get to it!
