We came to know Marta Magdalena through a tragedy.  Her mother came to us with the sad news that Marta Magdalena’s 6 year old brother had died during the night.  Her mother explained that the boy, Ronnie, had awakened at 4 AM with severe stomach pain. He had diarrhea and vomiting and became gradually worse.

The father desperately went to a neighbor who had a pick up, about 7AM to take Ronnie to the hospital.  On the way to the hospital little Ronnie died in his father's arms. They returned to the village, grief stricken to share the news with the mother, Faustania.  He hired the pick up to go buy a coffin. On the way to the town on the highway where they would be able to buy a coffin, the pick up driver lost control of the truck on the steep and bumpy road and the truck flipped over on the father. The tires ram over the father's legs. He was badly injured but would not go to the hospital.

When I entered the 2 room house that was home to 8 people, I saw the father lying on a wooden frame bed with a wooden board for a mattress, moaning quietly.  Near him on the ground was a small white coffin surrounded by pine needles and candles and a picture of Jesus. It was all I could do to not to burst into tears. I hugged the mother and proceeded to examine the father.

He was in much pain and his legs were swollen and bruised with many cuts. He was not able to move them.  I told him we must get him to the hospital to get X-rays. He said he could not leave till they had buried his son.

The custom in Guatemala is to spend almost 24 hours beside the body of the deceased and receive family and friends. There is rarely embalming so the body must be buried within 24 hours by law. They serve several rounds of coffee and bread to all the visitors. Many times when some one dies we prepare a package of coffee, sugar and bread to give to the family. Then they have a service and the person is buried.  The people in the village generally bury the person in the ground and make a simple marker. The cemetery is in the next town up the road. They either walk the 8 km. or if they have money, they may hire a pick up.

Ronnie's father insisted he could not leave his son's side until he was buried. No amount of persuading could move him. I made him promise to go to the hospital after that. I explained how to take some pain medicine and elevate his seriously swollen legs.  I left money for a pick up to take him to the hospital praying his lower legs were not broken.

When I came back the next day to visit the family, the father told me he had gone to the hospital and thankfully, his legs were not broken. Sadly he had been treated very rudely at the public hospital. I could see the hurt in his eyes as he explained how he was treated. At this time when he was hurting so badly from losing his son; does the doctor have to be so rude? It is another reason that it is so hard for me to get people to agree to go the hospital. Many times I accompany them so they get better treatment.

While I was in their home I noticed a baby about 10 months, a beautiful bright looking little girl who was coughing a lot. I asked the mother to come back to the clinic so I could examine the baby, Marta Magdalena. On examination I concluded that she had pneumonia and a serious leakin a valve in her heart. The mother burst into tears on hearing the news. I hugged her to comfort her.

I assured her we would go together to the heart hospital to have her examined by specialists. There is a good heart hospital in the city that is semi-private.  The family was too poor to even pay the reduced amount that they needed for the surgery, as the father could not work for 2 months as his legs healed. We were able to pay for the surgery through several generous donations.

A few months ago the family invited us to share in Marta Magdalena's 2nd birthday. They prepared a native chicken stew, Pollo Pepian, which happens to be one of my favorites. They had bought a paper tablecloth to decorate their home for this celebration. The ground as is customary, was strewn with fresh pine needles. I feel so honored yet humbled that they were so gracious to the staff from the clinic and me.

However the true joy that we shared together was the life of a precious little girl, Marta Magdalena all dressed in a clean little typical outfit and braided hair as she amused us with her antics. She is a really bright and inquisitive little girl who seldom cried through all her surgery. I thank all of you who have sacrificed to help keep our clinic going with your donations.

May God bless you.

Welcome to the new Hands of Hope Blog!

We will be blogging about life and goings on at the Hands of Hope Medical Clinic, located in the rural mountains of Guatemala.  

We will try our best to update it as often as we can.

Thanks for you interest!

Anita & Gregory Giagnocavo

AnitaRN@Hands-of-Hope.com

www.Hands-of-Hope.com