Out of all the photos I’ve taken this year, one stands apart from the rest as my favorite:
This is Nicolas.
I met him at a day center for older adults in San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala in July. Nicolas was alot like the other older adults I met that day. He was willing to sing “Padre Abraham” with silly Americans, he was grateful for the bag of goodies the group I was with gave him, and he was ready to talk with anyone who was willing to trot out their mediocre spanish.
But he was also different from the other older adults. He was blind. And he wore a little sign around his neck.
His sign read:
Ladies and gentleman, brothers and sisters, would you help this poor blind man? For the love of God.
“Senor o senora. Hermano o hermana. Podrias ayudar a este pobre hombre ciego? Por amor de Dios”
“Que fuera un buen samaritano”
I understood the first two lines easy enough since he had written the same thing in Spanish and in English. But the last line stumped me. It was in a Spanish tense I’ve yet to learn. After asking around, I found out that it read:
“That you would be a good samaritan”
Intrigued, I asked Nicolas towards the end of our conversation, “Do people help you out alot?”
While sucking on the watermelon flavored candy cane he had received earlier, he answered, “No.”
We continued to make small talk, and a few minutes later, I walked Nicolas out the door and watched as he ventured down a street busy with honking cars, kids running around, and his white cane swiping the air in front of him.
Since that day I haven’t forgotten Nicolas’ prayer, which was directed to the reader of his sign—me.
“That I would be a good samaritan.”
I hope that you won’t forget it either.
“Que fuera un buen samaritano”
