In the summer of 2004 I was fortunate enough to travel to Brazil on a mission trip with my Church. There are several things that stay in my mind about that trip. At the moment two things are going 'round my mind: How peaceful and safe I felt, and this one little girl.
The first few days that we were there, we stayed at the Instituto Central de Povo ( or "People's Central Institute) in Rio de Janeiro. The had two small rooms for the girls and a larger (but still tiny) room for the guys. The rooms had metal bunk beds, and incredibly nasty old mattresses. The room that I stayed in was 12 by 15 ft. It had 3 bunk beds, no lights. Just one small broken window by the ceiling.
The first night we were there, we woke up to gunfire and of all things fireworks. Later, we learned that fireworks are used in the favellas -- or slums -- to warn the inhabitants that the police are coming and basically mean "hide the drugs".
Honestly, that was one of the best nights sleep I've ever had. And I can't explain it other than to say that I was completely sure that God was there, and I was safe. There was in my mind no reason whatsoever to worry. If you know me, you know that I am an incredible worry wart. Looking back over the trip I have no idea how I managed to go through the whole thing and not completely flip out (although the airplane almost got me in that respect). . .
Behind the Institute up on a hill was part of the slums.
We could see the cardboard houses as we were working on several different projects such as painting play ground equipment, and picking up trash inside the Institute "compound". We had been at it for about half an hour one morning, when children started walking down the hill from the favellas. They were coming to help us work! They helped with everything, but most of all I believe they enjoyed the attention we gave them. There was one little girl who was about 7, in particular. She had on a jean jacket that was too small, and pink cloth shorts. She was holding the skinniest little dog I had ever seen in my life.
She didn't speak English, and I obviously don't speak Portuguese, but she had no trouble getting the point across that she wanted a picture taken of her with me. Her pointing at the camera around Mr. Ed's neck and yanking my arm at the same time was a big clue.
She followed me around for nearly 4 hours, wearing my blue SMU hat that my mom had given me. She really liked that hat. . .
Before I knew it it was time for us to leave to and get on the bus to tour the city. And she still had on my hat. I felt like -- I knew rather -- I should give her that hat. But, and I cringe thinking about it 'til this day, I really wanted my hat. So, I gave her this bead bracelet that I had on instead. Her face light up like the brightest sun after she realized that I meant for her to keep it. I took my hat back while she was fascinated with the bracelet. I hugged her goodbye, fully intending to see her again when we returned that night or the next day.
I didn't see the little girl again. But, I saw her eyes in every other Brazilian's eyes I met. They were Jesus' eyes. . .
And, I didn't give her my hat. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I'd give her the hat and more without so much as a thought...
Gosh, what a long post!
Peace,
I really want YTI to work out for you, but if it doesn't...I'll be excited about H2H with you.
Enjoyed lunch today.
Posted by: Shottie | January 04, 2006 at 12:04 AM