A few months back, Dick met Bryan and his family while visiting Maria Garcia. Bryan had a cleft lip, and we were able to help them connect with surgeons who come into Hermano Pedro to do this very special type of surgery. After having spent time with his family during the preop and surgery, they had asked us to come visit them in Huehue the next time we were in the area. His dad, Santos, would call me periodically just to see how we were, and to find out when we would be up in Huehue again.
We didn’t have a wheelchair or medicine to bring to this family. This was one of those visits we did just for fun. I have learned, though, how important these visits are to the family, and believe they are how we keep our ministry relationally focused on the people we serve and connecting them with Jesus. But I have to admit, they are fun.
Santos met us in the town of La Democracia, very near the Mexican border, to guide us to his home. While not far from the town as the crow flies, it was quite a trip to get into the area where they live, in the middle of coffee farms. As we drove to their house, we passed any number of very beautiful houses on this small trail. When I commented about this, Santos replied, in a matter-of-fact manner, that these houses belong to the drug runners who live in this area. Gulp! Suddenly the drug trade became very real to me, at the same time I realized how much it is (by necessity) an accepted part of the daily lives of those who live in this area. I was glad, though, that I had not taken pictures of the houses. (For those of you who have visited us, and have been asked not to take pictures in certain areas, this is exactly why we have this policy.)
When we arrived at the house, I was a bit surprised (though looking at the area, I don’t know why) to see we would have to hike down the side of the mountain. For those of you who know me, my balance is not the best and I had forgotten my walking stick! Recalling one of my favorite books, Hinds Feet in High Places, and trusting God, as well as Santos, Dick, Marcos, and David (who sometimes held my hand at the same time they were holding on to a tree to brace themselves!), I made it safely down the trail to the house. And it was so worth it. The views from the “porch” were absolutely breath-taking.
Momma had prepared a simple lunch for us, consisting of guisquil and tamalitos (corn meal tamales with black beans), which we gratefully shared with the family.
As is often the case in these isolated areas (though I am still taken by surprise when it happens) the children are often afraid of strangers, especially “gringos” (white people). The neighbor children hid at first, curious but too scared to approach the strangers.
Then Dick worked his magic with them by taking pictures and doing a few tricks, and they were soon laughing a joking with us. I think it helped that we had Marcos and David traveling with us, too.
Here Marcos and David are horsing around. A few minutes later David was crying because Marcos had accidentally hit him in the head.
Like your momma always said. . .
We were delighted to see Bryan looking so well. You can hardly tell he had surgery. He wasn’t too sure, about us, though, and kept his distance, safely in Momma’s arms.
As we chatted, I realized that this visit was not by accident, but another one of the Godincidents we so frequently encounter. A few days before I even knew we were traveling to Huehue, I had received a message from my friend, Craig. He was interested in connecting with a family who grows coffee, to possibly set up a business relationship between them and a friend who roasts beans in Texas. At the time, I thought, “Yeah, like I’m gonna be able to help you with this.” All the coffee growing in our area of is done by large companies, with the workers getting paid only pennies. No way was I going to support that!
These are coffee plant seedlings which Santos grows and sells to the plantations, was well as plants some on the family’s land.
And here we were, in the middle of coffee trees. As we talked, I discovered that much of the land was owned by large coffee growers, who the family would work for—when there was work. But I also learned that the immediate area around their house was owned by different members of his Santos’ family, and they grew coffee themselves and could sell to whomever they wanted. So, we are working on making a connection between this remote area near the Mexican border and Texas. A trip that started out with only fun as it’s purpose, may turn out to be profitable not only for our friends in Texas, but for this poor family as well. This is the kind of thing only God could have orchestrated, and I’m so glad He lets me in on it!
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