Our time here in El Salvador thus far has been really fantastic. On Mondays and Fridays, we do various different things. The first few Mondays and Fridays we replaced a roof at a boys orphanage, removing the old roof made from asbestos and putting up a new roof of sheet metal. We all nearly died at some point, weather it be sheet metal being uncomfortably close to your neck, or almost falling 15-20 feet through the roof because you walked in the wrong spot (you can read about that on my teammate Matthew Fitzgerald’s blog). This past Monday, we drove about an hour and a half outside of San Salvador to see a girls orphanage. We made card for them with verses and encouragements and gave them out, and had a sweet game of basketball, Gringos vs. Salvadorans.
Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are different. From morning until noon, we do projects around the Mission To El Salvador office, like painting window bars, putting up ceiling fans, and fixing a leaky sink (which as it turned out was cracked, so the fix I did was useless, so I had to install a whole new sink. After lunch, we do a ministry called El Faro, aka Lighthouse. Homeless men women and kids can come in and get a haircut, a shower, brush their teeth, trade in their clothes for a new pair, play some games, then have a devotional time and a meal. I usually work security at the gate, checking the people that come in for sharp objects or lighters and stuff, checking their bags, and on some, checking their sobriety. After everyone is in (usually 30-40 people,) I come inside and play games with them. I have lost countless games of checkers to the “Damas Champio”.
Thursday nights are different. We see a different side of not only San Salvador, but the world. At 7:30, we make anywhere from 150 to 300 sandwiches, depending on how many supplies they have. Most of these sandwiches get paired with cookies and juice. Some, just cookies. We then put everything and ourselves in the back of our host Jon’s truck, and with his friend Nestor at the wheel, hit the city. One of the first people we see is a man named Carlos. He helps us clean up after homeless ministry, and we have all come to know him and befriend him. He always has a smile on his face. To earn extra money, he washes car windows, but it isn’t enough to keep him off the streets. From there, it doesn’t get any nicer. The second memory I recall from the back of the truck is a small group of five transvestite prostitutes. Jon was more than gracious with them, handed them all bags of food.
With out going in to the super gruesome details, we saw things we knew existed, but had never seen. Families, women with babies that couldn’t be more than a few months old, teenagers, old folk, just about anything you can imagine. There are three classes here in El Salvador. The upperclass, the lower class, and those who don’t exist. The are completely overlooked by those who can help the most. The upper class either doesn’t care, or isn’t aware of what goes on in their own country.
So I put it to you all. When you see a homeless man on the street corner, what do you do? Roll up the window and pretend he doesn’t exist. Don’t lie to yourself, it is just what we do. You say in your mind, “He/she is just going to use the money to buy alcohol or drugs.” Maybe so. But is that any reason to just pass them by every time? Is that a reason to not show them Christ’s love? Would Jesus have passed them by? Hell no. So why should we? Keep a stash of Oreos in your glove box. Don’t leave the house without a can of chunky soup with a pocket new testament rubber banded to it. Don’t ostracize someone because they have nothing. Show them the love of Jesus. Show them the hope that comes with salvation.
