The Rose

Smothered in a rough, oversized coat, she sits against the short wall bordering the business sidewalks. My friend points her out, saying he wants to give her the rest of his ice cream. The gratefulness in her eyes at receiving such a gift invites us to stay awhile and talk. Her name is Rosa. Originally she's from Mexico City, and that's where her family is now. Years ago, she hosted Bible studies in her home in the States and handed out Bibles a few blocks away on Revolution Avenue, where all the tourists come to drink and party. When we tell her that we're Christians too, she opens even more. She has no one in Tijuana and no contact with her kids. She's been living on the streets for 4 years now, but she doesn't act desperate or beg for anything. Instead, she tells us stories of how God has provided for her unexpectedly. She tells people about God's Word at every opportunity. When we ask her what we can pray for her, she says she wants a home, a job, and some new clothes, but right now she'd be happy with a cart to put her bags in so she didn't have to carry them all day. As I listen to her story, I can feel my heart breaking. Why is it so easy to assume people struggling with poverty are so different than me? If I had met Rosa at a church somewhere, I would have been inspired and challenged by her passion for seeing people saved. Tonight, sitting cross legged on a sidewalk in downtown Tijuana, I am awed and convicted. By now, it's almost midnight and we need to reconnect with our friends. With all the stores closed for hours, there's nothing we can do for her but give her some money and pray with her, that is after she tells us about a big prayer gathering that one of the churches is putting on in a month. Soon after we meet back up with our the rest of our friends, one of them has compassion on a little girl selling roses. Not really wanting the rose, she gives it to Rocky. Half an hour later, as we're walking back to the van, we see Rosa moving in the dark down the block. Rocky and I have the same thought at about the same time. As our friends climbed in, we run to say good bye and to give Rosa a gift one of God's faithful princesses deserves: a delicate red rose.