In just a few minutes, we’ll load up for our morning ministry. That means we’ll grab a GIANT tub of rice and beans, some eggs and cheese and a cooler of some fruity drink or another. We’ll pile everything into the back of a tiny pick up truck. And then we’ll jump in ourselves. It’s only about a 15 minute drive to the outskirts of town. But even before we get there, we can smell the smoke and burning trash. As we get closer we begin to see the piles of garbage. A little girl about 7 or 8 years old is walking down the road carrying a giant bag and stomping along in knee high, 2 inch heel boots that are bigger than she is.
Once we drive through the gate, we park the truck and find a nice tree to set up underneath. We pull out a table, set out the food and slowly, people start trickling into the line. They won’t come until they’ve sorted through the entire truckload of trash that was just dropped off, afraid that if they leave, someone else will get the good stuff. Nearly 100 workers spend 6 days a week sorting trash, looking for something valuable, something that can be recycled, anything that can get them a little cash to feed their families.
And once they get in line, we serve them one scoop of rice and beans, one piece of cheese, a little bit of egg and a piece of bread.
The first time we went, I was scooping out rice and beans, trying to make sure each of my scoops was the same size. And as I scooped, I watched the faces of the people we were serving. Not one person complained about the amount of food. Not one person asked for a bigger piece of cheese. And when we ran out of eggs, nobody even commented. But when I noticed the eggs were gone, I started putting a little extra scoop of rice and beans onto their plates. And when I did, one man’s eyes got big and he said something to our translator. I looked questioningly at him and he said, “He was surprised by the big portion.”
And I was hit with this overwhelming wave of sadness.
Sadness that somehow I ended up deciding how much these people eat today. So we prayed for God to multiply the food and I started scooping a little more.
Sadness that when we stood in a circle to pray, the women were ashamed to hold my hand because theirs were dirty. And so I simply smiled at them, grabbed their hands anyway and held on tightly.
Sadness that when we leave, these people will go back to searching the trash for treasures. And so I walked over, picked up a plastic bottle covered in slime and flies, and started filling bags.
My heart aches for these people. But somewhere within the sadness, there is a glimmer of hope. Hope because this is not the end for these people. Hope because God has SO much for them. Hope because the Kingdom of God is alive and well here in Granada. And this is not home. Though their houses here on earth are shacks built on trash, they will have a mansion in heaven. We are not home yet. But we get to see a little piece of heaven right here to the dumps in Granada!
