Not very good photos (selfies weren’t a thing back then) but this was our mission trip to Mexico. (I’m the one in blue at the Tortlleria)
I loved this trip. We saw so many people that were hungry for hope. And they looked to us to provide it. To them we were all prosperous Americans. Whenever I get discouraged about things that are less than perfect in my life I think to this trip and how so many people would love to trade me places.
I remember one particular outing when one of the chaperones took a baby wipe and cleaned the face of a little boy. He was about 3 or 4 and he was mesmerized with this magic little cloth. We were at the “tar paper city” where the word house referred to any type of shelter that was cobbled together with refuse. The chaperone tried to throw the dirty baby wipe away but the little boy clung to his now filthy wipe still in awe of its magic ability to clean without water.
Another side trip took us to the mountains. We were guests in a small home and our meal was served with extreme pride. A tablespoon of watery beans and a palm sized tortilla made the meal. After dinner we got a small cup of coffee that you could see through. Some were put off by the meal but it would have been rude to refuse such hospitality. After we had left we were told this family most likely had saved up food all week to feed our group. Talk about humbling.