Elvia Alvarado

"We're not going to solve our problems through handouts. Until we change the system, all the charity in the world won't take us out of poverty." --Elvia Alvarado (Don't be Afraid Gringo: A Honduran Woman Speaks from the Heart)

This morning at Barnes and Nobles I stumbled across this book (quoted above)--dictated by a Honduran campesina (peasant) and her struggle to organize the campesinos and fight for their rights to own land and to live descent lives. Interestingly I have been thinking a lot about Honduras lately despite being home from my mission (where I served) almost three years. I started reading the Book of Mormon in Spanish again. I even watched a movie in Spanish instead of English the other day. And I have been thinking about the lives they lead there--the way they view the world. Reading her story has brought back floods of memories. I am still horrified by their extreme poverty--impoverished children, diseased water, lack of resources, lack of land, endless cycles of abuse and malnutrition; I am still saddened by their skewed values--intense machismo, lack of fidelity between men and women; I am still frustrated by the corruption--both political and religious. And yet, as a people--particularly those in the pueblos and campos, they are so strong. I have rarely met such determination, such work ethic, such resiliency.

As a "welfare sister" I was called to not only teach the gospel, but to work with the members in building the principles of self-reliance and caring for the poor and needy. It was an overwhelming task--for more reasons than I will elaborate on here--to say the least. In a nut-shell, we were to help the people attain greater self reliance in the areas of education, employment, food storage, physical health, resource management, and spiritual, emotional, and social strength. The goal was to help them become more capable in one or two of these areas so that they could then help others.

To me, this is one of the most beautiful principles of the gospel--the idea that we attain in order to give. Providing in the Lord's Way: A Leader's Guide to Welfare describes it this way:

"In the Doctrine and Covenants, the Savior explained that the Saints should give their offerings for the poor to the Bishop. The Bishop keeps these offerings in "the [Lord's] storehouse" and uses them as needed "to administer to the poor and needy" (D&C 42:34; see also 42:29-36; 78:3-7, 13-17; 82: 14-19).

"The Lord's storehouse receives, holds in trust, and dispenses the consecrated offerings of the Saints. In form and operation the storehouse may be as simple or sophisticated as circumstances require. It may be a list of available services, money in an account, food in a pantry, or commodities in a building. A storehouse is established the moment faithful member consecrate to the bishop their time, talents, skills, compassion, materials, and financial means in caring for the poor and building the kingdom of God on the earth.

"The Lord's Storehouse, therefor exists in each ward."

I love this passage. It seems so clear here. Why do we get an education? What should we be doing with our health and strength? How should we be using our resources? Probably not just on ourselves. The Lord gives, so that we can give. So much of why we are here is to lessen the disparity between what we have been given and what others have been given. In fact, He declared (D&C 104: 13-18) that He will provide for His people in His own way... that the "rich shall be exalted and the poor shall be made low." The idea being, as I understand it, we become equal. Those rich in health care for those poor in health. Those rich in compassion care for those poor in spirit. Those rich in knowledge, teach (share, give) those lacking. Isn't missionary work those "rich" in the spirit or testimony sharing with those who have not yet received it? Not for the intent to prove their superiority, but because we really are equal. And interestingly enough, those to give (or are "rich" made low) tend to not fall to the level of the "poor," but rather bring them up. And the system as already been set up--as simple or sophisticated as circumstances allow--in each ward and branch of the church.

And yet, even in the church, we are far from this mark. As I read Elvia's words, I was reminded, that this is the ideal system. This is how it is supposed to work. And yet there are so many places in the world where it just isn't happening. Honduras just being one--and one that particularly matters a lot to me. What are we doing about it? Of course, as Providing in the Lord's Way suggests, it starts in our own wards, and really, in our own homes. In her book, Elvia keeps discussing the problems in the individual homes of the campesinos. It is in the home that there isn't fidelity. It is in the home that there is fear and mistrust. It is in the home that there is lack of respect and compassion. So of course, we must start in the home.

I don't know where I am going with all this--since it is a complex issue that cannot be wrapped up in a blog post or a cliche ending. But I have been feeling ansy the last few days. I have been wanting to worry about something bigger than my own fears or insecurities or sunburned legs. I am grateful for the reminder that "it's not about [me] anymore." There are bigger, more important issues at hand. And there are things--large and small--that we can do to change them. It starts in our own homes, in our own wards, and in our efforts to change what Elvia calls "the system."