You're Never Alone: A True Story of a Peruvian Girl Who Overcame the Challenges of Life with the Help of the Lord

By Jedediah Smith

This is a true account of a woman from the rustic Sierra mountains of Peru, born to poverty, illiteracy, superstition, and family alcoholism. She struggles to find her own self-worth in a harsh and confusing world. Ultimately, she discovers what she is convinced is the answer to the secret of happiness in this life, and from that moment on she begins living a rich and rewarding life. Her jubilation over what she has found causes her to want to disclose this secret to the world, hence she has authorized the creation of this book about her life and this miraculous discovery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669838203

Jedediah Smith

Jedediah Smith is the pen name of a disabled Vietnam-war veteran married to the main character of this book in real life. He was raised in the Midwest in a small town situated along the banks of the Mississippi River. With no prior work as a writer before this publication, he was inspired by his wife’s life and his love for her to create this account. Together with his wife, they are living out their senior years in the beautiful state of Arizona.

Book preview

You’re Never Alone

A True Story of a Peruvian Girl Who Overcame

The Challenges of Life with the Help of the Lord

Jedediah Smith

Copyright © 2022 by Jedediah Smith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/19/2022

Xlibris

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Contents

Chapter 1

La Lucma

(Where It All Started)

Chapter 2

The Early Years

(Growing Up)

Chapter 3

The Escape

(Our Story Begins)

Chapter 4

I Will Go

(A Willing Volunteer)

Chapter 5

Chance of A Lifetime

(Learning a Trade)

Chapter 6

Never Alone

(An Unseen Friend)

Chapter 7

A Taste of America

(A Whole New World)

Chapter 8

Moving to America

(A New Life)

Chapter 9

A Partner for Life

(The Right One)

Chapter 10

An Eternal Marriage

(A Forever Union)

Chapter 11

Making a Go of It

(Living Life)

Chapter 12

Enduring to the End

(Life’s Challenges)

Chapter 13

The Return of Two Sisters

(A Merging of the Past)

Chapter 14

Meet the Gringo

(Presenting the Husband)

Chapter 15

Building Our Home

(Working Together)

Chapter 16

Meet the Cousins

(Uniting the Two Families)

Chapter 17

Afterglow

(The End)

Preface

To protect their privacy, the names of persons and places have been changed in this true account about a woman from the rustic Sierra mountains of Peru born to poverty, illiteracy, and family alcoholism. Relying on the strength of her faith rather than an education, she miraculously finds her way to a fulfilling and service-filled life in America. Her lessons and trials teach her that being faithful and obedient are traits more important than intellectual accomplishment; however, the most important lesson of all she learned is that we are never alone during our trials in life.

Chapter 1

La Lucma

(Where It All Started)

Lucma%20Fruit.jpg

LUCMA FRUIT

The poverty-stricken yet extremely beautiful spot in Peru where our subject was born, called La Lucma, is named after the unique Peruvian lucma fruit that grows abundantly in that area. Our subject’s birthplace is not a city or even a pueblo found on a map, but rather, it is a spot on a trail that leads up the side of a mountain taking you closer and closer to heaven. The name is a colloquial reference coined and used by those who live there and are aware of its existence, which was probably originated and used by our subject’s early ancestors.

It is comprised of a group of less than thirty self-sufficient homesteads situated in the foothills of the majestic Sierra mountains. Each separate acreage is large enough to raise livestock and grow food for each family and, in some cases, grow enough surplus to sell at the nearby market. Almost like manna from heaven, the yield off the land is a reward to all those willing to earn it with the sweat of their brow.

La Lucma is a mountain spot so calm and majestic that it hides the poverty suffered by the inhabitants living there. If there was a more peaceful place on earth to be born, the young girl in our story was not aware of it. It is free of the noisy crowds and dirty streets found in the slums of the large cities where the poor must work at whatever they can to earn the money to buy food and pay for the humble shelters in which they live. Though she knew of nothing else to make a comparison, she was grateful for having the circumstances under which she was born.

Several of the local residents claim kinship with the Garcia surname, the ancestral name of our subject’s patriarchal family. Isolated from the outside world, this tight-knit community serves as a haven for the offspring of those forefathers who labored to create it. This is a place where the grandeur of God’s handiwork is obvious. It is the kind of place that serves as a mental retreat for anyone who visits or is fortunate enough to live there and simply breathes in the grand spectacle displayed by Mother Nature. If one is troubled in thought or wants a place to go to talk to God, this is the place. To visit La Lucma is to want to permanently live there. This was the unique physical environment the subject of our story enjoyed each day of her life as a young girl.

This is where life began for the young girl born as Luna Garcia to a mother named Emely Rojas and father named Vasco Garcia. Arriving on earth in this peaceful and beautiful setting, we discover a child who loves her family. She loves life, and she certainly loves what she sees of Peru. Still unaware of her own poverty, if her condition was described as underprivileged, she was the last to know it.

She never celebrated her birthday while growing up and is not entirely certain of what her correct birthdate is. Like many born in the Sierras, her birth was never documented. She never needed a birth certificate until later at age twenty-two when she applied for a visa to go to America as one was required to establish her identity. The day of the month used for her birthday was established without certainty but was based on the recollection of the event by her mother and grandmother. According to the parish record, her christening occurred in the month of October in the year 1944; however, the lawyer creating her birth certificate made a mistake by using the year 1945, which only adds further confusion to the accuracy of her birth. At the time her birth certificate was created, she had the lawyer legally change her name from Luna to Rosa Luna, so her birth certificate correctly displays the legal name, Rosa Luna Garcia.

If not for the troubled relationship in Rosa’s home between her mama and papa she would have considered her younger days to be perfect. She was healthy, she was never hungry, she loved her family and she was among the chosen few fortunate enough to be born and raised in this unique garden of Eden called La Lucma. Erase the trauma caused early in her life from watching her father abuse her mother and she would have grown up entirely happy.

Though her family saw very few worldly possessions and her personal opportunities were severely limited, neither Rosa’s birth nor her circumstances were particularly unique. Indeed, thousands of stories could be told of others starting out with these same sort of humble circumstances, or worse, somewhere in a similarly remote area on earth, albeit perhaps not as appealing. What is unique about our story, and what makes it worth telling, is how she overcame her trials and adversity and came to rely on the Lord’s help to direct her course.

What are the characteristics that distinguished her from all those other similar young children and what is it about the race in life that has some starting from the back and ending at the front? What allowed her to free herself from her given situation while so many others in the world seemed to be trapped in it? Why did her life end up so different and vastly improved from its predicted beginning? As we shall see, she was true to what she knew to be right and obedient to what she believed in, which allowed the Lord to bless her life in many ways. These personal traits coupled with a special drive that came with her makeup when she was born and thrived with her throughout her life answers these questions.

The eight-year-old Rosa stepped into the doorway of her adobe house at daylight to inhale the fresh mountain air and greet the new day with the adventurous excitement of her youth. Her young life had not yet provided her enough experience to describe a more beautiful scene than what her eyes beheld. The aroma of mountain flowers filled the air. Birds were singing their sweet melody in a perfect harmony, and the sky was painted in the richest, deepest blue colors available in the Creator’s palette as it presented a spectacular backdrop for the surrounding white mountain peaks. Anyone greeting this addictive surrounding beauty each day in a similar way was almost guaranteed that their day was going to be a good one.

The land surrounding her little home provided the sustenance for her small family which was comprised of her mama; her papa; and three sisters, Angelica, Lucia, and little three-year-old Cynthia. Runoff from the snow-topped mountains provided irrigation for her family’s fields which were owned by her grandmother where beans, squash, corn, potatoes, and a variety of other produce were grown. Adding to this bounty was a variety of wild berries growing free gratis in the uncultivated strips of land around their small farm. Along with the guinea pigs raised inside the house, farm animals raised on the land to provide meat for the family table were allowed to glean the fields after harvest to supplement their feed. God had ensured that any family here willing to work was not going to starve.

One of Rosa’s favorite dishes was the giant zapallo squash. Her mother inserted a needle into the rind of the squash to allow the steam to escape and buried it in the coals to roast. It was as sweet as a pudding and considered a marvelous treat. The carrot-like ocas was another vegetable from the potato family that Rosa adored. A typical meal on her family’s table may consist of cuy (guinea pig) fried in pork lard, black beans, zapallo, and the cherished ocas depending on the season of year. Almost everything on the family’s eating table each day was provided in part by her own labor in either the planting, caring for, or harvesting of the crops. This same statement could be said for each of the older members of her family.

The house she was standing in was the house where she began her life. It is the same house where many of Rosa’s family members were born. It belonged to her paternal grandmother, who inherited it from her parents. Papa was then living in this house with his mother and his own family in anticipation of inheriting it from her someday. Several feet from the front of the door of the house and just beyond the wooden gate was the winding footpath that looped around the top of a hill along the similar houses and fields that formed this unique place. Looking to the left, a short distance away, Rosa gazed at the path leading to the one-room schoolhouse that she desperately longed to attend, but her father would not allow it because she was born a girl instead of a boy. Her father held the philosophy that girls did not need to attend school since they were intended only for childbearing and housework; therefore, he never sent any of his girls to school.

It was a big disappointment in his own eyes that Rosa was born a girl because he was looking forward to having a son to replace his only son, Dario, who died as a young child. Rosa and her father had a special relationship because of this, and though she was extremely saddened over his decision to not allow her to attend school, she did not hate him for it. This is but one indication of her capacity to love others. But having the schoolhouse within eyesight served as a constant reminder of something Rosa desperately wanted but couldn’t have—an education. The bitter irony of her situation was that her being denied of an education was the result of her father’s unwavering choice and not because it wasn’t available, but she was helpless to change her father’s view on the subject.

Stretching off to the right of her house was the well-trodden path that led to the small pueblo of Baza, the closest neighboring village. Though seldom used by Rosa, this nearly three-mile-long route was used on a daily basis by residents of the area to traverse back and forth with goods they would buy and sell in the mercado (marketplace). This trail branched several times before reaching Baza, each adjacent path leading to other dwellings and farms located within those same lush green foothills. One could become easily lost in the spider web of joint pathways if they did not know where they were going. This feature was largely responsible for keeping Rosa isolated to within her native community of La Lucma and why Mama did not let her wander very far away.

There were no streets in La Lucma, only this narrow dirt trail with its several branches that led to the front doors of other nearby neighbors who were mostly related to Rosa as either a close or an extended member of the Garcia family. The further one ventured outside La Lucma proper, the greater the chance of encountering unrelated mountain-dwelling neighbors. The only form of transportation in and out of the area, other than by foot, was by donkey or horse.

Rosa’s father raised two horses and a donkey, making it possible for him, and often his wife along with him, to carry homegrown produce and homemade goods to the market in Baza to sell. When Mama and Papa both went to the market, the girls were left under the care of their beloved abuelita (grandmother); however, on very special occasions if the stars were aligned and the moon just right, they may take one of the girls with them. During harvest time, Vasco and Emely would frequently take fresh corn, squash, beans, or other surplus from their fields, along with straw hats made by the family, to the marketplace, loaded on the back of the donkey. Before returning from her long day of selling at the market, Mama bought rice, salt, sugar, and other staples that they were not able to grow on their own land.

In addition to locally raised produce, the mercado in Baza provided the opportunity for La Lucma residents to purchase guava, papaya, mangoes, and other fruits grown on the coast and shipped there. Rosa’s favorites were mangoes and guava, but they were only procured at those times when Mama had sufficient profits from her own enterprise. Rosa would have loved to have had a mango or guava tree growing there on her own grandmother’s farm, but the climate in the Sierras was not as ideal as that found on the coast for growing such marvelous fruits.

Unreachable by bus or by car makes La Lucma permanently remote and keeps it from ever becoming crowded. The gradual increase in the population is due largely to childbirth since there is no industry to attract new residents. If a new dwelling popped up in the neighborhood, it was typically the result of the splitting up of a parcel of land to provide a new place of residence given to someone’s child to raise his or her own new family.

Prevented from attending school and living in an isolated area meant that Rosa never had friends or playmates while growing up other than her sisters and other relatives. Rosa’s social life was entirely consumed in interactions with her own close family members. This not only tended to increase the bond she had with her own family, it also made Rosa realize how precious a rare friend can be.

The customary form of recreation for the whole family, taught to Rosa at a very early age, was to move the few items of furniture out of the way to create the space for dancing with each other. Taking care to not step on the guinea pigs being raised free-range in the house, the family would engage in a group dance, which was one of the few no-cost forms of family fun available. These shindigs were often accompanied by their own voices humming and singing the popular Peruvian folk songs they had memorized. Partnered couples were not required, rather, everyone was welcome to dance. This activity enjoyed during Rosa’s early youth permanently stamped her preference with a strong bias for dancing as her favorite chosen form of entertainment, which remained so for the rest of her life. By the time she reached adulthood, whenever she heard music she liked, her mind no longer needed to instruct the automatic movement of her feet as they had developed an involuntary response and rhythm to the beat of their own.

Cooking%20Firepit.jpg

COOKING FIREPIT

The climate in the Sierra foothills was pleasant. The warm summer climates were tempered with cool mountain breezes, and in winter it rarely froze or snowed except higher up in the mountains. People of that region would simply dress according to the anticipated temperatures of the season. Grandmother’s house was built like others in that area with no central cooling or heating. Any heat that was needed was provided by the same open firepit used for cooking, which caused the room to be fill with heavy smoke that was sometimes almost too thick to inhale. The walls in the kitchen showed evidence of the old firepit with years of accumulated residue from smoke and soot. This unhealthy environment was so severe that it caused many individuals, including Rosa’s oldest sister, to come down with a serious case of black lung disease by the time she reached middle age.

In summertime, an open window provided sufficient cooling and the cross-ventilation allowed the house to rid itself of firepit smoke. During this time of year, each breath filled one’s lungs with an unlimited supply of fresh air. Rosa was completely ignorant regarding the concept of indoor climate control because she was blessed to be born in a place where it was not needed. Having no electricity meant the family normally went to bed and got up according to the timing of the sun. To do otherwise meant spending money on lamp oil.

The walls and roofs of the houses were constructed from locally available materials, primarily stone, adobe, and straw. A smooth, hard surface was created as a floor from the native soil formed from the wear of the soles of the feet of the home’s occupants. These residences were not provided with running water, which had to be fetched instead in small quantities from the nearby pond. Sewage waste was disposed of outside. Doors and windows, if ever used, could be installed anytime after the house was inhabited. These features made for houses that could be hand built by the sweat equity of the homeowners who needed and used them long before Rosa was born.

As Rosa stood there in the doorway, she thought to herself, After I finish my chores what shall I do today?

There was always time between her morning chores and her evening chores where