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There were few grave stones or markers, instead row after row
of simple mounds of brown dirt to indicate that someone was buried
there. It took quite a while for everyone to arrive at the grave
site, and as we waited I watched several families unpack bottles
of soda and cups from their baskets and begin to serve others
a cold drink. The service itself was very simple, hymns, Scripture
reading, prayers, words about the man who had died, Moisés
Pérez, husband, father of ten children, a good hard working
man who now would rest in peace with Jesus. Before the casket
was lowered into the ground by the men of the family, family members
were invited to come and say their last goodbyes with tears and
prayers. It was a time of grief and sadness, but not despair.
The family and friends were grateful for Moisés's long
life and they knew that life would continue for them.
As we made our way down the steep hill and back home, I thought
of how easy it is to see the differences in our lives as North
Americans and indigenous Guatemalans, differences of language,
culture, life experience, history, dress. But over the years I
have experienced in Guatemala what I felt and knew today—that
we have much in common binding us together. We all grieve at the
loss of a loved one, families care for one another, we feed one
another, as best we know how. Through our tears we are grateful
for life and celebrate God's care. We all pick up the pieces of
life and go on, as there is more work to do. And all of us hope
for that which we do not now see, peace on earth and an eternal
home with God.
Ellen H. Dozier
The 2002 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, page
242
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