[Circa 1965]
Vicensia Quispe’s little son, Alberto, now about six years old, was born without the ability to hear or talk. This meant he could not go to school. His father died shortly after he was born, so he had many “strikes” against him.
But he could smile! Often, during the mid 1960s, when I was doing visitation in the homes up in Chejje, I would see him in the trail and immediately his face would break out into a big warm smile as I stopped to pay attention to him and talk with him.
One Christmas, Henrick and I decided we wanted to give him a gift, so when we went to La Paz we purchased a homemade wooden truck that was perhaps twelve inches long and eight inches high. We wrapped it up and put it under our tree.
Then we invited Vicensia and little Alberto to come and visit us one day. After chatting a bit with Vicensia, I took Alberto by the hand over to the tree. I put the wrapped gift into his hands and motioned for him to unwrap it. He did! I remember to this day the wide grin that covered his whole face and the special gleam in his eyes! I tried to explain that it was his to take home; he caught on very quickly. Never had he been happier, for he had never before had a brand new toy that was his very own! The bond of love and friendship between Alberto and us grew and developed even more that day.
Some months later on a Sunday morning as Henrick and I were getting ready to go to church, I was feeling a great loneliness for Joy and Faith, our two precious little granddaughters in the United States. How we longed to see them and hold them in our arms! And guess what? God knew about that, and during the worship service at church that morning, little Alberto came to the pew where Henrick and I were sitting and climbed up between us!
Oh yes, that was God’s way of filling the emptiness my arms had felt that morning!