My Second Home
Hogar Miguel Magone
Last year while I was having a wonderful time playing soccer with the amazing Guatemalan kids, two young, adorable, shy boys were carried and coaxed up the orphanage’s steep driveway. One was very young and was cradled in a young woman’s arms, and the other was walking while holding hands with another woman. I sauntered up to the boys and started to see the marks all over their faces and limbs. I got closer and noticed Karen, the orphanage director, hurrying over also. She was one of the few people that could speak English and she was close, I asked what had happened to the boys. I listened in shock as she told me that they had been taken from their mother. When I asked why, Karen responded by telling me the brothers’ mother had abused them and burned them with cigarettes. I was taken aback and felt a wave of sorrow for the boys. I probably looked silly, just standing there with astonishment written all over my face. Later that afternoon, the youngest boy was in his crib crying. Nobody was in there with him, so I walked over and started playing with the boy. I drove his toy cars along the crib railing while making a ‘vroom’ sound and he was laughing in no time at all. Those boys and their story really opened my eyes.