Street Children
One of my earliest encounters with poverty took place in Mexico, where I was born. I can clearly recall a young boy, about 7 or 8 years old, who was doing his best to stop passing cars so that he could wash their windshields for money. He was struggling to carry a large spray bottle of cleaner and a blue rag in his hand. One look at his face immediately led you to believe that he hadn’t had a good dinner in days. I observed him as he would jump in front of cars and start washing their windshields. A lot of drivers would curse at him and tell him to get lost. But what startled me the most was the fact that his mother was nowhere in sight. I can recall asking my grandmother why he was cleaning windshields. Wasn’t he supposed to be with his mom? It was then that my grandmother told me that the unfortunate young boy was what people called “nino de la calle” (Spanish for “boy of the street”). These boys were abandoned by their parents and left to fend for themselves. But how could a mother be so cruel as to desert her own child? This boy couldn’t possibly be any older than 8 yrs old, yet he had the responsibilities of an adult! I found it shocking that anybody could be as cold-hearted as to deprive this young boy of his youth and innocence. This boy was no longer just a boy, he was a man. He had to grow up quickly and acquire all the street skills required to survive in the streets. Read More »
