Sibling Love

Today I spent my day outside with 16 children playing all day. It was Saturday so there was no school and everyone was excited about the World Cup. The majority of people here are supporting Brazil, but there is a decent fan base for Argentina too. So when they won, rejoicing ensued. Everyone ran around screaming, the older boys decided to have a rainy game of fútbol down on the field by the school, and everyone else got in a goal kicking competition for Cokes at the basketball court. We took the little children away so they wouldn't get destroyed.

While everyone else was celebrating, I was watching all the kids play on the lower playground and refereeing to keep them from killing each other. One of their favorite games is to put two of them on the big rope swing and have me push them while everyone else throws balls at them and tries to hit them. At first I told them this was dangerous and that we were not going to play it, but they quickly assured me (with looks that said, "She's nice but she's kind of an idiot") that they do this all the time and I shouldn't worry. It was all fun and games for everyone except for one little girl. Earlier in the day she broke her glasses and lost the screw. I asked her if she could still see and she said no but continued to play. The problem was that she had a little trouble avoiding the swing in her effort to collect the balls that were thrown. She kept being under the swing right when it came down and getting hit. Every time I was sure she must be hurt but every time she just looked at me and smiled.

After awhile the kids started hitting each other a lot and beating on one another. The little boys are all very athletic and they like to take out their pent up energy on one another's skulls. One boy was crying pretty much all morning because another boy had hit him. Nevermind that it happened two hours ago...it's still a good reason to be crying. It was at this point that I saw the most endearing thing thus far at Casa Bernabé...

The little girl who is the first boy's little sister, and the cutest child alive, is the youngest in the house. She's too young to be in Casa Samuel but they didn't want to separate her from her brother so they let her move up with him. She is always in her own little world, carefully examining a leaf while the other children play, or staring at a rock while everyone around her is screaming. At this particular moment she was sitting on top of the playground entertaining herself, blissfully unaware of anyone and everyone. The injured boy was standing by himself crying and the other boy was in time out for hitting him. The little girl hadn't paid attention to anyone for the past hour but as soon as she heard someone say that her brother was hurt she perked up and said, "¿Dónde? ¡Él es mi hermano!" (Where? He is my brother!) and jumped down the slide to go look for him. Another boy came over to comfort him but she chased him away and said, "No, es mi hermano." She ran over to him and hugged him and said, "Hermanito, ¿qué pasó? ¿Estás bien?" (Little brother, what happened? Are you ok?). Even though she is two years younger than him she hugged him, hooked her arm through his, and put her head on his arm. She told him she loved him and rubbed him arm and, once assured that her 'hermanito' was ok, ran off to play.

Even though Casa Bernabé is a place of great love and healing, I am often reminded as I watch the children that it is still an institution. They are still growing up with 17 other children, sharing parents, wearing identical matching uniforms, and living a very sheltered existence. They are also, understandably, very territorial and protective of their few personal possessions (which they sometimes decide includes me). Seeing this little girl run to protect her brother was a rare moment of real family here. Even though they all love each other and get along remarkably well, there is something special about having an actual sibling here to look out for you.