I Humbly Offer This to You

By Lucy B., returning from mission in Peru

Bertie asked us to accompany her to vote and we arranged for one of us to go along with her (In Peru heavy fines are given to no-show voters). However, there were a few challenges – Bertie couldn’t take public transport because her replaced hip makes it difficult for her to step up into the buses and she didn’t have the means to pay for a personal taxi. We had some donation money we decided we would use to help get Bertie to her assigned voting site, but when we set out to ask what the taxis would charge us, we still fell short.

So, as a community, we began to brainstorm other ideas. Belén, the newest missionary from Chile, had the brilliant idea to ask the police if they could transport Bertie in their police vehicles to where she needed to vote. Eleanor, another missionary from the US, stayed back with Bertie as she walked at a slower pace, while Belén and I proceeded to approach any law enforcement officers we saw in the local voting sites. Three voting sites, five officers, and two phone calls later, we still hadn’t found any solutions. Nearing the point of desperation, Belén and I turned back down the main street to find Eleanor and Bertie to discuss what other options we had. Knowing that not voting wasn’t one of them because Bertie wouldn’t be able to pay the large fines either. Ten steps later, we ran into Sasha on her way to vote. At first, it appeared that she might not even stop to say hi to us, but at the last minute, she approached us and asked us how we were doing.

I expressed to Sasha that we were quite stressed because we didn’t know how we were going to help Bertie vote because she didn’t have a way to get there on her own. Sasha looked me right in the eyes and said, “Is there no way to get her to her voting site? Or is there no…” she proceeded to rub her fingers together in the universal gesture for money, “to get her to her voting site?” My face must have given away that it was the latter, because without hesitating, before I could even realize what was happening, Sasha whipped out her own wallet and handed me a 10-sol bill.

Tears immediately flooded my eyes. I knew Sasha’s story; I knew she often didn’t have even 2 soles to pay for her bus to get to work. And here she was, standing in front of me, offering not me, but Bertie, 10 soles to help her vote. Stammering, all I could say to Sasha was, “Are you sure Sasha?”, hope flooding my voice. And these were her words:

“Hermanita, very humbly I offer this to you. I know what it’s like to not have. And that’s not something I wish on anyone else. There have been so many times where I’ve lost my job. Somehow, I always saw Bertie and I asked her to pray that I find a new job. Every single time, I had a job within the next few days. I know I have my job because of Bertie’s prayers. Please take it. I just ask that Bertie doesn’t know the help came from me.”

I was stunned. Here was this woman, my friend, living out humility in a way that I had never grasped before. And I saw what good it did Sasha to be able to give. That when we received her meager 10 soles on Bertie’s behalf, she buoyed not only our spirits, but received back a little bit of her own dignity. That the woman who approached us with a mission to vote and a serious face left on her errand a little lighter, a little more human. Those 10 soles closed the financial gap that let us get a taxi for Bertie to vote that day. What a great gift it was that day to witness my friend Sasha give of herself so humbly.