It was one of those moments that movies are made of. Those heart-warming stories of an instructor going above and beyond the call of duty to insure his students were in class and not on the streets selling their bodies or worse.
It was one of those days when we didn’t want to do ministry. We were ready to move on to the next country. Somewhere between packing and writing wrap-up blogs was an invitation to visit a judo class.
So six of us said, “If there’s no one else, I’ll go.”
And it was awkward.
We outnumbered them. They didn’t want to speak English. We didn’t want to speak Spanish. There was no real plan.
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