A Bed for Rafael

(Ok, so the photo has nothing to do with the story but we’re proud of our bumper crop if cherry tomatoes. Rod is now cooking them down into marmalade and the whole house smells wonderful.)


Mary, my maid, is the same age as I. She has four children by two husbands. The oldest is 31. (She had him when she was 15.) The youngest, Rafael, is 11.

A few weeks ago Mary left her second husband, who hasn’t worked in two years, took her youngest son and moved into her oldest son’s home. I found out through snatches of conversation that Rafael has never had a bed. He slept on the floor when they were living with his father’s family and was sharing a bed with Mary in their new home. Any time Mary suggested that they acquire a bed for him, her husband said, “No, he’s fine on the floor.”

An 11 year old boy needs his own bed. More so in a couple of years for reasons that don’t need to be explained. I asked if there was maybe a room that he could call his own and was told that yes, there was a small room that was either empty or could be emptied easily.

I took Mary to a local furniture store and purchased a single mattress and a wooden base and headboard for Rafael. (On another trip to Costco I bought a mattress pad and a set of 400 thread count cotton sheets.) The headboard wasn’t really necessary but it was so inexpensive that I asked Mary if she wanted it. “Si Charles, pero solamente si es economico.” She didn’t want me to spend anything more than the basics and probably would have been delighted with just a mattress on the floor. I decided on the works and as I passed the cash to the store clerk, Mary’s eyes got teary. “Gracias Charles.” I just hugged her and said, “De nada.”

The next day the bed was delivered. Mary explained that Rafael told his friends that he couldn’t go out to play because his NEW bed was being delivered. She also said that he didn’t sleep in his new bed until 6:00 in the morning because he was awake just admiring it. He is now working on writing a thank you note to Rod and me.

I have to admit that making a difference in one small child’s life is really rewarding. I almost feel guilty for feeling so good about the gift.

Mary is one of 12 children and there are at least 150 family members who live in San Miguel. None have ever asked me for a thing and whenever I need help, in a phone call someone is there. Mary was also my father’s primary care giver and his favorite. It was the least I could do.