I’ve been sending letters to a boy I’ve never met for 6 years now. He lives in Honduras. This May I was in Honduras. Our relationship has transformed from a mere sponsorship to a friendship over the years of sending handwritten letters, photos, and birthday/Christmas gifts.
My team was travelling through Honduras because we were looking for Unsung Heroes. In our last week in the country we were living in a coastal town 3 hours away from where my sponsor child lived. On the very last day I had the opportunity to try to track Gilberto down. And when I mean “had the opportunity” I mean that I made the opportunity happen.
Two of my teammates and I set out as soon as the car rental shops opened. Taking public transport would take us twice the time. After a few moments of paperwork and a quick stop at the Maxi Despensa for necessary road trip snacks we were off! It felt strange to be driving on the World Race after not driving for 9 months.
We arrived in Gilberto’s hometown in 4 hours and the search began. We saw a Catholic church so we stopped to see if they knew where Gilberto’s church was. The man we met didn’t know, but he directed us to a sweet, elderly lady at the pulperia (corner store) across the street. She ended up giving us wrong directions, but the appointment was divine. The wrong directions took us to a Baptist church. They groundskeeper didn’t know where to go either.
We were driving around town so much we had to fill up at the Texaco station. Shortly after that we pulled over and yelled at a group of young men for directions. After a short conversation we learned that he had the phone number of the pastor of whose church we were looking for. We waited 10 minutes for him to show up. After explaining myself he took us directly to Gilberto’s home.
I recognized my friend as soon as he popped his head through the curtains of the window. He recognized me immediately as well. It was surreal to be finally meeting the boy I, quite honestly, never thought I’d ever meet.
He welcomed us inside, offered us water, and introduced us to his grandpa. We talked for a little while and then hopped in the car to visit his mom who was at work making tortillas. After a short introduction we continued to the beach and talked, goofed around, and took pictures there. He even surprised the whole group when he lifted me up practically sideways for a photo.
I could have stayed with him for another week, but we had to drive home because we were leaving early the next morning and did not want to get stuck on backroads in Honduras in the dark in a blatant rental car.
That day is one of my favourite days on the World Race and of my life. God’s hands were all over it.
