A sad story.

Yesterday I walked into Rayito and saw two of my favorite girls, Dicsy and Fresia, really upset. I asked them what was wrong and they explained to me that the night before, their mom (no more than 26 years old) had taken a bag with most of the girls clothes (for the three girls in their family they have about 6 shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 2 skirts and 2 pairs of shorts) and left with the 2 youngest girls, Mirian (4 yrs old) and the baby Stacy. Dicsy (5) sat on my lap and cried and Fresia (7) stroked her hair while telling her that their mother would return. The girls told me the reason that their mother left was because their dad was drinking too much. They continued to tell me that their mom also has 3 other boyfriends, and Fresia argued with Dicsy that the other men were just friends. While trying my hardest not to cry, I asked where their oldest bother, David (9) was, and they informed me he was out with the dad looking for their mom. At one point in the morning, the father came to the gate of they daycare with David, and told Fresia that if their mother didn't return, the kids would be sent to an orphanage because he couldn't take care of them. Fresia then started crying, but had to remain strong because Dicsy didn't know, and she didn't want her to find out. Fresia and David sat at a table eating lunch together discussing how they would escape from the orphanage. Finally, a few hours later, their mother appeared to drop off Mirian so she could eat. The girls were excited to see their mother, but were still upset because they knew that the chance of them having to go to an orphanage was still high.
Experiencing this with the girls was one of the saddest things I have ever been through. It's terrible to see these kids being exposed to these things at their age. The fact that they know about their mothers relationships with numerous men, and that their father is an alcoholic unfit to care for them breaks my heart. No child should ever have to endure these things. When I was asking them if there was anyone else they could stay with, an aunt or grandmother, they said no, grabbed onto my waist, looked up at me and asked if they could come live with me in the United States. On the verge of tears, I picked up Dicsy and pretended she was my suitcase and carried her around the room. I finally saw one of her beautiful smiles that I had been praying for all morning.
Today the girls were calling me Mom and saying that they were my daughters and they were going to come live with me when I leave Costa Rica. Leaving them is going to be impossible.

Dicsy