Querida Cochabamba:

La tía…la tía, la tía. (1000 points to whoever gets the reference :))

Anyways, I’ve been meaning to write this for so long, but I’ve instead written other things, prioritizing official journal entries over this one, but really it’s been kind of a good thing that this has been put off because now I’ve gotten to see more sides of being a tía, and after writing my last post, I’ve gained a new perspective on it too.

To be a tía is by far the most rewarding part of this experience. More rewarding than teaching is simply loving and being loved by the children. From the beginning, the little ones love you. It’s that pure, unconditional love that I talked about before. They may not like you too much when you have to punish them for misbehaving, but in no time they’re back to hugging your legs saying, “Tía! Tía!” And this kind of love is exactly the kind we must give in return. How can you not when they give you their love so readily? In just the same way, you may not like them all the time when they are misbehaving, but you love them all the same. At first it was more difficult, but it has definitely gotten easier as time has passed. It’s not just that I’ve gotten used to their rambunctiousness. No, they have really taught me a lot about love, reminded me of many things that I had forgotten.

I remember the first time I really realized that I was a tía. I was in the music room cleaning up when at the door pop in Roxana and Danes, two 3 year olds from the guardería “kindergarten.” I look over and as soon as I made eye contact with them, their faces lit up and Roxana shouted, “Tía!” with the happiness of someone who hadn’t seen a friend in years and with the surprise of someone who thought they would never see them again. I will never forget her face, her voice. They both came running over to me and tackled me with big bear hugs. I tickled them and they let out the most beautiful sounds of pure childish joy. I told them that I had to clean up but that I would see them tomorrow, and they went running off to the playground. It was the briefest of moments, but it was definitely one of the most memorable.

As I mentioned before, I witnessed this same pure love in the hearts of the children at the special needs orphanage. It’s something that I really admire in them, the innocent unconditional love. I started thinking about it some more and I realized that this is something that I wish we did not grow out of. Once we grow older, the conditions start coming. In order to love someone, I need them to do this and this and this for me. And they must be like this and this and this. Oh, and if they ever do this or this or this, they have lost my love forever.

Why do we do this?

Why do we limit our love in this way? Why must we grow out of the way we loved as children? Why do we let prejudices or differences in opinion hinder our ability to love one another? Why do we create mental checklists of the pre-requisites of our love? At what point exactly do we lose our ability to love like a child?

Obviously, I’m not the only one to observe this difference. In the Bible, Jesus points it out multiple times. It is one of the main themes of the novel To Kill a Mockingbird. It is present in the distiction between how Forrest loves and how Jenny tried to find love in the movie Forrest Gump. Clearly, I have not made a new discovery in the history of mankind. Yet, sometimes we look down upon this love, saying that they are too young to understand what true love really is. Perhaps the truth is that we have forgotten what true love really is. Maybe as we get older our vision gets clouded by the hatred that exists in the world. We learn not to trust for fear of being hurt. Maybe it’s time for all of us to take the time to rub our eyes and view the world anew as children do. If we could all remember what it means to love as children, without judgment, without pride, without fear, many of our problems could be solved, conflicts resolved, faith in the future renewed.

Oh Lord, give me the heart of a child so that I might be able to fulfill my purpose on this Earth, to Love.

Laurel Bingman

P.S. A few more things I have learned from being a tía:

-There is nothing more enchanting than a child’s laugh.
-There is nothing more beautiful than a child sleeping in your arms.
-There is nothing more pure than a child’s love.