Perhaps you don’t know, but the Christian family lost an
outstanding member this past Friday. In fact, you probably don’t know, because
she shone her light in a tiny community in rural Ecuador that most people don’t
even know exists.
I only met her once, and regret not having talked to her
more. I went to visit Las Jaguitas a few months ago with Kenia, an Ecuadorian
friend, who was showing me around her home town. She took me to visit her grandma,
Brunilda, and I immediately noticed this woman’s beauty. She was 84 years old
and lived in a simple house with only the barest necessities. She had lived a
hard life, constantly battling poverty, seeing 3 of her children die and being
the sole caretaker of a blind husband and mentally handicapped daughter. Yet,
in spite of all this there was a peace and sweetness reflected in the lines of
her face that were easily recognisable.
But it wasn’t until she passed away and I heard people
talking about her, that I realized how truly special this woman was. Brunilda
spent her whole life living in Las Jaguitas- she had never even been to the
ocean (which is only about 2 hours away). She was not well educated and never
had a lot of money, yet I find myself admiring her more than many other people I
have met. Her devotion to God was of greater worth than a world of PHDs and
paper diplomas.
Every morning Brunilda faithfully swept the one room church
in Las Jaguitas and prayed the entire time she did it. She learned to read
using the Bible as her primer with the whole purpose of being able to read it.
This woman who had barely any education knew entire psalms by memory. At the
funeral her family kept mentioning how she had a special talent of making food
stretch. No matter how many people showed up at her house or how little she had,
she always found a way to make her bit of food go all around- even give people
seconds. Her son says he thinks God blessed her hands to make the food
multiply. The preacher said she never failed to have orange juice ready for him
when he was preaching. Her nephew said he had never seen her angry or complain.
She was like a mother to the whole community, giving more than she had and
always listening, caring and giving gentle, wise advice.
As I took my turn to look in the casket- at the lined,
serene, face- I felt I was looking at a veteran comrade-in- arms who had successfully
completed her last mission. I looked at her and realized that I want to be like
her. I can get so caught up in theological discussions, philosophies, big
questions that history has never answered. I can run around in circles in my
head, going dizzy chasing these things, but when I looked at Brunilda I realized
that those things don’t matter so much. Her simple, child-like faith stood the
test of life’s hardest storms and questions, and she came out of the furnace a
rare quality of gold.
Well done, Brunilda. Enjoy your well-earned reward. I know I’ll
be seeing you later.
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