For Sonia, Love Always

Sometimes she’d show up bloodied and beaten. On other days, we’d have to search her out and walk her to La Puerta for protection from the women who despised her. Her complicated vulnerability meant she couldn’t demand to use protection for the services she provided. Her ravaged, suffering body reduced members of our medical teams to tears more than once. But when she walked through the door, Peluche (our doggy) ran to meet her, jumping on her in his delightful yay-you’re-here way. He only ever welcomed Sonia like this, and he did it every time she walked in the room.

Now, call me a nutter, I care not a jot, but I have a theory about dogs. Dogs know things. They know people. If my dog doesn’t like you…hmm, I will look at you askance, but our dog LOVED Sonia. He tolerates the ladies. They love him, and he puts up with them, hoping they’ll give him food. But he made his love for Sonia very clear. And that love gave her so much joy that just writing it is gosh darn making me cry.

That frightened, broken woman, whose life was unremitting suffering, would sit alone at a table (she felt more comfortable that way) with Peluche at her feet, and they would play and she would giggle. It was the only time she laughed. She loved him, and being with him gave her joy, and I’m convinced Jesus loved her through that little dog. Argue amongst yourselves about my theology; my mind is set =)A few days ago, Sonia died.

Truly, no more tears. No more men taking the roof off her room to rape her. No more random, violent attacks from bitter women on La Linea looking to punish someone weaker than them. No more hunger, cold, sickness, danger, or disease.

We met Sonia on the first day we showed up on La Linea in 2015. We loved her, we really did. And now it’s over.

Rest in peace, sweetheart. You were worth so much more than this life gave you.