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Extreme poverty seems insurmountable, unstoppable. It's growing with uncomfortable momentum. As those of us fortunate enough to have safe homes to live in, view images of poverty on the evening news, it can feel distant, like it doesn't belong to us.
But poverty belongs to all of us. And it belongs to girl named Daniela who lives in Tegucigalpa, Honduras. 
I met her in March last year when I traveled to El Hogar. I did not go to El Hogar with the intention of spending time in the infirmary. But that's where I met Daniela. She was wheezing, coughing, struggling for breath at a group assembly one morning. I recognized the short, shallow breaths, the uncomfortable posture.
I looked at her and saw my own daughters, all of whom have asthma. I thought about our numerous Emergency Room visits, the nebulizer treatments at 3 am. I thought about rubbing my little girls' backs as their wheezing vibrated in my fingertips.
Daniela had only been at El Hogar for a few weeks when I met her. Having spent most of her life living in prison with her mother who was serving time on drug charges, Daniela's asthma had gone unchecked her whole life.
She saw a doctor at El Hogar that day and got an inhaler, steroids and antibiotics. But, unlike my children, she didn't get to go home to a mother who would rub her back. She rested alone in the infirmary.
So I stayed with her that day. We talked. She tried, unsuccessfully, to teach me to knit. We made animals out of clay. And I rubbed her back, acutely aware of the familiar vibrations in her lungs.
Her shy smile and reluctant giggles got under my skin and she wiggled her way into my heart. When I came home and told my family about Daniela, about growing up in a prison, that she had asthma just like them, that she didn't even know how old she was because no one remembered when she was born, my kids were silent for a few minutes.
One of my girls ran upstairs and brought down a twenty-dollar bill from her savings. She asked if she could sponsor Daniela. I explained that it cost more than $20 to sponsor a child at El Hogar, to pay for their housing, education, healthcare, food and clothing. Pretty soon all my kids were offering me money, and together we agreed that our family would commit to supporting her at El Hogar.
By sponsoring her, we are playing a small part in breaking the cycle of poverty that traps so many children. She is getting an excellent education, and will learn a trade. She is safe and healthy, and has a bright future. Most importantly, she is valued and loved by her teachers, her dorm mates -- and by my family.
I left a piece of my heart with Daniela. In exchange, I took home the responsibility for a poverty that I once thought did not belong to me. The reality is, we all share in the responsibility for poverty, in Honduras and in the world.
- Julie Dalton, Service team volunteer |