Bart and Annie Winter are volunteering with CFCA for a year†in Ocotepeque, Honduras. They arrived in Honduras just a few weeks ago, and will be sharing their experiences with us throughout the year.
There are many significant moments in every life. In the life of a sponsored elderly woman named DoÒa Delia, those moments include her marriage, the births and deaths of her children, and, also of importance, the fact that as a child, her parents bought her shoes.
The following is a glimpse into the life of one member of the CFCA family here in Ocotepeque.
DoÒa Delia poses for a picture near the project offices.
On Monday, Miriam (the project coordinator) invited us to visit one of the sponsored elderly who has been ill. Her name is MarÌa Delia, but she goes by DoÒa Delia. She is 74 years old and lives in a tiny (6◊6 ft) house, which consists of a dirt floor, four mud walls and a patchwork tin roof. She has no electricity, running water or latrine.
On the way to her house, Miriam tells us that DoÒa Delia has quite a personality. Sheís known for wearing pants under her dresses and her favorite hat is similar to one that a drum major might wear to lead a parade. Later, upon reviewing DoÒa Deliaís file, we also learn that she likes to wear makeup so that she looks nice for the people she meets. It is clear that she is a strong, spunky individual despite her age and the circumstances of her life.
DoÒa Delia was born†in 1934, to her parents, Francisca and Arturo. As a little girl, she helped provide for her family by making cigars and quesadillas to sell on the streets. She was never able to attend school, so she never learned to read or write. She remembers that her parents bought her a pair of shoes – a significant point of pride because, at that time, most children went barefoot. At the age of 14, DoÒa Delia married her boyfriend, Merejildo. She went on to give birth to 14 children, 8 of whom died either at birth or as babies. When she was 40, her husband died, and after a time, she began to go with Rafael Antonio. Since then, they have lived in a poor neighborhood within the city limits of Ocotepeque.
Tucked into the corner of an overgrown lot in this forgotten neighborhood sits DoÒa Deliaís house. Smoke from her small adobe oven pours out from the 6 inch gap between her walls and her roof. Upon entering her humble home, the first thing that strikes you is the heat. The second thing that strikes you is DoÒa Delia, lying upon her bed in a red sweatshirt and sweatpants, with a matching handkerchief tied around her hair. Despite the heat, she is covered in a wool blanket. Her face is soft, like worn leather, but her eyes are alert and she is quick to smile at the sight of Miriam, or la profesora, as everyone here calls her.