Bus Ride
On the way back from one of our ministries, my team had to transition from one bus to another. While waiting for the bus, I decided to buy a bag of fruit from a street vendor. After paying maybe 10 lempiras (50 cents) for the fruit, the woman offered me a bag of watermelon for free. I gratefully accepted it, thinking I would probably share it with my team members.
When the bus arrived, we loaded on. It was fairly crowded, but I found a seat next to a woman with a one-year-old baby. As I sat and ate my fruit, I watched the woman interact with her child. Their clothes looked a bit drab and their faces a bit dirty, but the love between them was so transparent.
In that moment, I felt compelled to give them the bag of watermelon. I asked her “Tu quieres?” which means, “Do you want?” She smiled, accepted the watermelon, and thanked me. Immediately she opened the bag and gave some watermelon to her baby.
When it came time to get off the bus, I said, “Dios te bendiga” to her, which means “God bless you.” She responded, but between my poor Spanish skills and the hustle to get off the bus, I wasn’t able to understand what she said.
Neighborhood Outreach
One weekend, courtesy of the 18th Street Gang that ran the barrio (neighborhood), we were able to hold a party in a poor, usually dangerous barrio. We took a school bus into the neighborhood, a bit nervous and unsure of what to expect. As we rounded the corner into the “town square” (a soccer-field-sized expanse of dirt) close to 100 smiling and screaming kids ran toward us. The plans we had for an Olympics game sank into the pandemonium that ensued- but that was okay. God had better plans.
At the beginning, I spent some time swinging a long jump rope with my squad-mate Christine. These kids LOVED jump roping and were pretty great at it, but let me say, organizing a fair game with 30 or so hyper, Spanish-speaking children was a challenge. After 20 minutes or so, I relieved my duties to another squad-mate and joined Emily P and few others who were playing music and dancing with the kids.
It was then that I saw a little girl, probably about 6 or 7 years old, standing alone amidst the commotion. I don’t remember her name, but we’ll call her Ana. I walked over to her and swept her up in my arms. From that moment on until we left, Ana didn’t leave my side.
[Photo Credit: Melanie Hairston]
Some of my squad-mates were painting fingernails, and I asked through a mixture of gestures and broken Spanish if she would like hers painted. She emphatically shook her head “yes” (well, “si”) and chose a bottle of pink nail polish.
She held her little hands so still, watching with wide eyes as I painted each nail. As I finished, another little girl walked over and showed Ana her painted toe nails. After a second series of gestures and broken Spanish, I understood she wanted her toenails painted as well. We took off her shoes and I tried my best to dust off her dirty feet. Earlier in the day, I had asked Ana some basic questions and she revealed to me that she didn’t have a father. While I painted her toenails, I thought about the Father’s love for us, and for Ana. In my broken Spanish I attempted to explain that she does have a Father, that He is God, and that He loves her. And then we had to leave. Everyone gathered into a mass circle in the center of the town square, and my Mexican-American squad-mate Daniel shared some last words with the kids. I gave her a squeeze and set her down, praying she understood what I said to her.
City Dump
A ministry Tony partners with regularly goes to the city dump to serve food and build relationships with the 2,000 families that live and work there. No, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. There are 2,000 families that live and work in the city dump. So one afternoon our squad went with them.
Pulling into the dump, the smell was nauseating. We saw vultures circling and cows rummaging through the garbage. And among the cows and garbage, there were people. Around a hundred people searching for cardboard, bottles, and anything else they could sell for money.
[Photo Credit: Jonathan Garner]
I got off the bus and was overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure what to do or say to these people. I felt like an intruder. Like we were a bunch of white tourists that had taken a wrong turn on a trip to the zoo and wound up staring at people instead of animals. Thankfully, it didn’t stay that way.
Eventually, I found my way to my squad-leader Kat and squad-mate Carina who were talking to a couple of girls, cousins ages 17 and 18. They both came from large families and from my understanding, they all worked in the dump as well. We attempted to ask them what they would like prayer for, but instead, the more talkative of the two prayed for us!
Something had gotten lost in translation, and it was a truly humbling experience; that this girl who has so little was praying blessings over us. After she finished, we got Tony’s attention and he relayed to the young women our thanks and explained the confusion. They laughed and allowed us to pray with them.
While we were praying, a dance circle had started between some of us and some of those who worked in the dump. Such a sweet, joyful paradox; dancing in the dump. I joined in until it was time to leave.
[Photo Credit: Emili Carmichael]
Sometimes I wonder why I have been blessed with so much, while others in the world have so little. But through these experiences, I'm reminded that I am blessed to be a blessing. Everything that has been given to me- loving Christian parents, socio-economic status, funding for a college degree, freedom to openly profess and practice my faith, and the support of many faithful Christ followers so that I can be on The World Race; is a blessing with responsibility.
I don’t know the trials that the woman and child on the bus have faced or will face. I don’t know what little Ana’s future holds. I don’t know if the cousins will find the motivation and means to move away from the dump. But in those fleeting moments, I was able to speak blessing over their lives.
Mother Teresa said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” Although so small, I pray that through those small acts of love, these daughters of the Living God now know a taste more of the Father’s love for them.
