Many times new missionaries are emotionally moved by a need they see, and feel compelled to “fix it.” I felt the same thing. I had my first taste of “missions” in a little community call La Rosa. At a VBS held by a missions team, I met four skinny, shabby, unkempt siblings, from ages two to twelve. Their shy, cute smiles won me over in no time flat, but the depravity of their living conditions impacted me the most.

“What is the story of these four girls?” I asked the translator. He lived and ministered in the area, so knew the family well.

“The mother of the four children ran off with a man and hasn’t returned. The father died, and the two elderly ladies, sisters, are taking care of the kids. They are the aunts,” the translator explained to me.

“What is their home like, and do they have enough food to eat?” I inquired as I looked at self-made shacks around me that wouldn’t even be used for chicken coops in Montana.

“Their home consists of portions of tin and old boards pieced together. It is in a little land area butted up to the homes of others. They are considered squatters, and if the owner sells the land, they will be told to leave.”

“How much does it cost for a piece of land the size they have?”

The fellow pondered only a few seconds and said, “About $7,000 and that would include a simple, concrete block house.”

I wanted to see where they lived, and with my North American eyes, I picked up enough information to know I couldn’t just walk away and not make an attempt to help this humble family. The compound could have fit in my living room. The translator explained how the twelve-year-old walked six blocks with a five-gallon plastic bucket, to a public water faucet and carried water home for all six people. (This well was put in for community use with disaster relief funds after Hurricane Mitch hit Guatemala in 1998.) She did this at 11:00 p.m., because young men hung around this area during the day. The late hour seemed to be a safer option.

The kitchen table, composed of a few pieces of wood, sat on some concrete blocks. A mattress lay on the floor with pieces of clothing clumped on top of it. This solution kept the clothes off the floor and gave more padding for the six occupants at night. A few anorexic chickens lived with them, and they were the only signs of any food, except for a some bones and juice in a dirty bowl with some bugs investigating this for their own use. They lived in poverty city.

The gears turned in my head as to what I could do with my limited funds. I figured that people back in the US would want to help if they knew about this situation. Instead, my sixth grade students would grab onto this project, and their hearts changed because of their involvement. I mentioned in the last post about Anita and her disdain of living in Guatemala. When she got involved with the La Rosa family, she did a turnaround. All of my students, including me, saw a purpose.

In the next post, I will share in detail my students served this family and others. You will be blessed to see the love of Christ that poured out of these MKs for needy people in Guatemala.