Today was an awesome, emotional day! We took the kids to the movies and it was so amazing to see the joy on their faces when the movie started. Over half of the kids had never been to the movie theater before. Wow, this is amazing as I think about how many times my children have seen a movie in a theater. We were able to watch Despicable Me in Spanish twice! It was so cool to hear the kids laughing at the funny parts! This is a picture of the kids waiting for the movie to start!
After the second group watched the movie, we were blessed enough to be able to attend Grupo de Vida which is like lifegroups or church home groups. This is held in a different home in the ghetto twice a week. It is lead by a man named Shorty. Shorty grew up in La Limonada and like many here, had a life filled with bad choices. He has since devoted himself to Jesus and to planting churches in La Limonada. It was a very powerful service with about 30 people inside a home that is smaller than my living room. The worship was so heart-felt and vibrant. No one cared whether they could sing on key or not. They were just worshipping God! There were people standing outside because there was no room inside. To see the hunger for God’s word in this place that is so filled with evil is amazing. There is hope here.
Unfortunately while we were at the second movie and Grupo de Vida, Cyndi was home with an upset stomach. In her time with God at the house questioning why she had to be home and not with us, she wrote a beautiful poem that I would like to share with you:
In La Limonada, as I walk through the street,
I see many faces of the people we meet.
I see their small homes, some broken, some worn,
I see their possessions, what little they own.
I smell the pungent aroma of sewage all day,
And ask how they can live in this way.
Why is it like this? What can we do?
What would you do if it happened to you?
The sadness they must feel, the anger, the fears,
Enough to flood all the streets with their tears.
I expected to hear crying and see signs of depression,
I expect to see sorrow, and expected aggression.
But instead I heard laughter and sounds of joy,
As children played with their only toy.
I saw friends and families working as one,
To make the best because life must go on.
The schools in the ghetto offer the kids love,
They offer them hope from the one above.
They do all they can with all that they’ve got,
But I know it’s not easy, because it’s not a lot.
I have much respect for the teachers here,
For what they must see all thru the year.
Soon I will return to my life back at home,
But how this has changed me is still yet unknown.
Why is it like this, I do not know.
I can not understand why they just don’t go.
But where would they run to? What would they do?
What would you do if it happened to you?
Buenas noches!
Danielita