Wondering, Wandering, and Writing

Thanksgiving – November 4

1999

El Salvador

My husband and I first traveled outside the US – a mission trip to assist in building homes.

Our fondest memory is a spontaneous time of worship after the Wednesday service.  A young man who had never had a lesson could play the keyboard like nobody’s business.  (For those of you who ain’t from around here — that means he could play very, very well.) The locals sang in Spanish; we sang in English.  Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.  And some other songs.  Three languages – English, Spanish, and music.  One heart.  A glorious, tiny glimpse of heaven to come.

One morning while we were on the way to the worksite, we passed a man walking along the roadside.  He picked a mango off a tree and kept walking.  Our leader told us that is common.  The mango will be his lunch.  We saw a lot of other new-to-us sights.  A 55-gallon drum of water stood beside the door of a home. Rainwater collected in it to provide water for the family.  We saw a home with three wooden walls with gaps between the planks, plastic walls, one electric wire running to it, and a TV. We saw so many smiles.  Adults were happy to have a home.  Children were just happy – no toys, often no shoes, and smiling from ear to ear.

The leaders tried to prepare us for re-entry at home.  Just one week in a different culture and it was a shock to come back to life as we knew it. That story is for another day. 

Music and a mango changed the way I see life.  Awareness. We need to open our eyes, minds, and hearts to see what is.

#bgwww21  #bgta21