Winter 2025

To the many who have cared,

God's presence in the house is an inner experience that never changes. It's a relationship that is there all the time, even when we're not paying attention to it. Perhaps the Infinite holds us to Itself in the same way that the earth does. Like gravity, if It ever stopped, we would know instantly. But it never does." Dr Rachel Ramen

From time to time, I suddenly feel compelled to turn my attention to a place or occurrence that, if left to my own resources, I would not naturally pursue. It happens when I am immersed in ordinary daily routine. The call to redirect my attention is unexpected and accompanied by a clear sense that I am being led by a Source Of understanding well beyond my own. With this in mind, I readily submit to the Will Of Another, trusting that whatever outcome may follow, it will ultimately be to my benefit.

I recently had such an experience on the morning of November 7th. I had just finished reviewing my email and was about to shut down my laptop when I felt a strong urge to investigate the Boston's Globe's online edition. I touch base with the Globe every so often, in the attempt to remain up-to-date with regard to what is happening in my native Boston. But on the morning of the 7th, I turned to the Globe in search of something specific, although I had no idea what it might be.

I slowly scrolled down the page, reviewing everything before me, not wanting to overlook anything that might not readily reveal itself to be the object of my search. Still I found nothing. My patience did not waiver, however, and although reviewing the total content of the Globe took time, I remained convinced that I would be led to whatever it was I had come to find.

My persistence was ultimately rewarded at the bottom of the page. I found and instantly recognized what I had been searching for in the Obituary section of the paper. Sara Terry had passed away at the age of 70. Caught off guard by the news of Sara's passing, I sat in silence for a time, to come to terms with her death and what it meant to me. An unmistakable sense of loss took hold of me, despite the fact that Sara and I had only gotten together on a handful of occasions since first meeting in 1993.

Those of you familiar with my reasons for coming to Guatemala might recognize Sara Terry as being the author of Giovany's Story. Giovany's Story was the featured piece in the Boston Globe's Sunday Magazine on May the 2nd, 1993. It had been Giovany's Story, through the telling of the life and brutal death of a homeless Guatemalan boy, which had compelled me to upend my life and move to Guatemala City.

I first met Sara approximately 6 weeks after Giovany's Story had been published. Its impact on me had been overwhelming, leaving me to struggle to continue to function in the life I had known before reading it. It was not until I had begun to form a response to the upheaval that Giovany"s Story had caused me that I felt ready to contact to Sara through the offices of the Globe. I had considerable doubts that Sara would consent to meet with me, but I underestimated her. Sara reached out to me without delay, and we set a time to meet over coffee in Boston's Back Bay.

A letter in response to Giovany's Story was printed in the Globe's Sunday Magazine, several weeks after its publication. The letter was critical in tone, objecting to the fact that Giovany's Story had got given more space to examining the social and political realities which, at that time, had contributed to Giovany's death. The failure to do so, in the opinion of the letter's author, had ultimately rendered Giovany's Story, including his death, to be largely irrelevant.

I wholeheartedly disagreed, believing that the telling of individual stories such as Giovany's was not only relevant but necessary. Bringing to light the personal struggles and loss was critical to creating and maintaining lasting interest in the causes themselves, large and small. It was Giovany's struggle to survive in the streets of Guatemala City, and the tragedy of his ultimate failure to do so which moved me profoundly and compelled me to rethink my life and begin anew at the age of 36.

Unable to bear the thought that the letter would have the last word on Giovany's Story, I decided to write a letter in response to the original letter. I put all of mv heart and soul into the writing of the letter and when satisfied that was the best that I had to offer, mailed it to the offices of the Globe. I held little expectation that the letter would be published, but had concluded that it was not the point. What mattered was that I had made the effort and, in doing so, had taken a stand on a matter of great personal importance.

Much to my surprise and delight, my letter appeared in the Globe on the Sunday before the day Sara and I had planned to get together. Sara had read the letter and recognized my name as that of its author. It was the initial topic of our conversation when we met. She praised my effort, stating that the letter had been, "very well written." I was pleased beyond measure. The letter served as an ice breaker as from the beginning, conversation between us was comfortable and easy, and would remain so throughout all future conversations.

I had already concluded at the time of our first meeting that it was imperative that I travel to Guatemala to visit the streets where Giovany had lived and died, as well as to meet with his peers still inhabiting his former world. I needed to see the reality with my own eyes. I discussed my desire with Sara. She proved to be enormously helpful with the planning of my first visit. It seems safe to say that without her support, I might never have found my way to Guatemala.

Sara lived in Boston and we continued to meet from time to time whenever I returned home. On one occasion I asked Sara what it meant to her to have someone be so moved as I had been in response to something she had written. She was well aware that I had relocated to Guatemala after having read Giovany's Story. Sara thought for a moment, before smiling and saying, "It's every writer's dream to have someone respond as you did, although I suspect most writers have not been so fortunate. I am among a very few who have."

Sara moved to Los Angeles, but we remained in touch through email. As the tenth anniversary of the publication of Giovany's Story approached, I asked Sara if she would be willing to return to Boston to speak at our annual spring fundraiser. I fully expected her to accept my invitation, therefore was not surprised when she did.

Before moving to Los Angeles, Sara had informed me that she had lost confidence in the ability of words to adequately convey the thoughts and feelings of an author to their readers with lasting and meaningful impact. She had begun to explore photo journalism as an alternative to traditional journalism and found it to her liking, having concluded that it was a better fit. Sara found it rewarding.

The shift eventually led to her founding the Aftermath Project in 2007, a non-profit that awarded grants to photographers documenting the long term effects Of war, after the conflict has ended. In 2012, Sara was awarded the Guggenheim fellowship for her work. The fellowship acknowledges individuals who have accomplished exceptional work in the humanities, social sciences, natural sciences and creative arts. The winning of the Guggenheim fellowship never came up in any of our communications. I would not learn of it until reading her obituary. I would also learn that Sara's work had been exhibited in the United Nations and various museums around the world. It remains in the permanent collection at Houston's Museum of Fine Arts.

In the obituary, originally published by the New York Times, then pick up by the Boston Globe, Sara was quoted as having once said, "I lost my faith in words in the mid-'90s and picked up a camera. I moved from being a strict journalist to being a story teller." The obituary also noted, "to her colleagues she was a journalist turned activist who came to believe that her work should strengthen the connections of humanity. 'l wanted to shake people by the shoulders and say, how can you ignore this place...how can you not be connected and move on to the next crisis spot?"'

When still a traditional journalist, Sara, by way Of Giovany's Story, shook me by the shoulders and compelled me to respond to a situation which I found to be utterly unacceptable: the senseless suffering and brutal killing of homeless children living in the streets of Guatemala City. I believe that Sara understood that, at least once in her career as a print journalist, words had not failed her. More than 30 years after the publishing of Giovany's Story, Only A Child is still at work, reaching out to disadvantaged youths in Guatemala. I would dearly love to have one last chance to remind her of the lasting impact her words have had on my life. And to thank her. It is not to be. I find solace in the fact that Sara went on to find other work which brought her recognition and fulfillment.

In the month's following the publication of Giovany's Story, I came to believe that through it, God was compelling me to begin my life anew in Guatemala. With additional time I would also come to see that it had always been the plan that much of my adult life would play itself out in my current home. Giovany's Story and Sara had functioned as God's chosen instruments to set the plan in motion. Mission accomplished. Sara had refused to ignore the pointless death of one boy living in the margins of Guatemalan society. She traveled a great distance and invested significant time to guarantee that Giovany's story would not be ignored or soon forgotten. In doing so, she changed my life forever. Hundreds of other lives have also benefited as a result, many in profound and lasting ways.

It would be easy to assume that, upon choosing to respond to a specific call to service from the Divine that, going forward, life would fall neatly into place; that the living of that life would take on a heavenly quality in which typical struggles in the earthly realm would fade and eventually cease to be. My experience in Guatemala resoundingly contradicts that assumption. It has always been a near constant struggle to plan and implement the daily function of Only A Child. Unforeseen challenges and obstacles routinely arise, forcing me to rethink my original plans and adapt on the fly. The quality of life in Guatemala City has deteriorated significantly since I first arrived, especially after the turn of the century. It was never that high to begin with. It can be enormously frustrating. I sometimes wonder how I have managed to stay the course. The answer comes to me quickly and never waivers. It is a simple yet compelling one. It comes in the form of an understanding that I never walk alone. It is anchored in the belief that the Creator of all things never ceases to watch over me. God is ever present in my life, guiding and encouraging me, in all circumstances and at all times, with or without my awareness of His presence.

My existence is often an isolated one. Nevertheless, I seldom feel alone or lonely. My life within this ministry, in the company of my Guatemalan family is an enjoyable one. That is not to say that I do not occasionally lack for the company of peers, people with whom I share a common upbringing and sensibility. In such moments I seek to become intentionally mindful of God's presence in my life. I take time to remember that God has never forsaken me. He never will. We all keep divine company. We walk in heavenly realms even in the midst of this earthly existence, often while failing to notice. Mindful of it or not in any given moment, this is the reality which has sustained me for the past 32 years.

Thank you for seeing us through another year, our 31st! It is the time of year when many people focus on their charitable giving. This has been our personal experience also, as the Christmas letter never fails to generate a strong response. It is no secret that these are difficult times for many. Therefore I ask that, when you consider your traditional giving at year's end, that you please keep Only A Child in mind. Our funding base is relatively small and, as such, we depend on the support of all of you.

Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. God bless us everyone.

George

PS La Vista, Only A Child's online newsletter serves to compliment these traditional letters. It has come to our attention that some of you enrolled in our emailing list may not be aware that you are receiving La Vista, that it may be going to spam. Our next edition is scheduled to go out on December 12th. I ask that if you believe you are on our emailing list and do not receive La Vista, that you please check your spam folder at that time. If you have never received an edition of La Vista and would like to, please fill out the space for email addresses on the donation card accompanying this letter and mail it to us in the return envelope also provided. Thanks. George