Clothes, Stories, and Hope on a Monday
When I arrived at the Foundation on Monday, it was packed with people. They came punctually at 10 o'clock sharp.
I noticed a student who comes to my class and who is usually very inconspicuous. I saw him stocking up on a large amount of clothes; he had even taken a suitcase to put them in.
The suitcase was not part of the donations—it belonged to a volunteer who had brought it just to transport the clothes—so I gently told him he couldn't take it.
I was surprised by his behavior, but I didn't think much of it.
Today I found out that he is being transferred to another shelter. He is going to Almeria with another student. Then I understood that the boy was getting ready, stocking up for what might happen.
At Asha-Kiran, he has met kind and helpful people. He hasn't been with us for long, but his departure will be felt.
A couple of nights before, he had texted me on the Foundation's phone. He only said, “Hi.” It was his way of saying goodbye.
That same Monday, a woman—also a student—collected two large bags full of clothes. But she didn't leave; she just stayed there, looking at me and at the bags. I thought, “Why doesn't she leave?”
Then I realized that she wanted to ask for something, either for me to take her home (I know where she lives, and it's not near our office), or for some other solution on my part. I could have said “Leave some of the clothes here and come back for them another day”, something to lighten her load. But at that time, it didn't occur to me.
She, being so shy, kept looking at the bags for a while, picked them up and left...
Often, our work at Asha-Kiran is just that: seeing what the person doesn't say, listening beyond the words. Behind every garment donated, there is a story. Behind every gesture, a life looking for a place to be seen.
The Solidarity Market was, yes, a day to hand out clothes. But it was also —as so often happens in this Welcoming Space— a silent reminder of what we are: a place where giving and receiving merge, where each encounter teaches us to look more slowly, more kindly.
By Dayana Saavedra, Asha-Kiran Delegate in Malaga
Proyecto subvencionado por el Ayuntamiento de Málaga.