In August of 2014 I traveled to Alajuela, Costa Rica, with a missions team from my church. Our team 's purpose was to aid the Rice and Beans Ministry. The director of RABMin, Fred Curry, warned us that not everyone that we would encounter would accept us with open arms. Fred knew that some locals would embrace us and dote on their American visitors but he also knew many people who wouldn 't.
He conveniently failed to mention that some days we might return to base camp with our tail tucked between our legs and our feelings hurt. Those are the days that count. Those are the days that made us question why we packed around two hundred food bags a day to deliver to people who might not welcome us. The worst area we reached out to was called
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I do not understand, to this day, how someone with empty cupboards, an empty belly, and a family to feed, could refuse a week 's worth of food just because they do not share beliefs with the person on the other side of the bag. On one of our last stops we were welcomed into a small home by a child. He grabbed our guide 's finger to lead us to his mother. The woman refused our food bag at first because she assumed that, as Christians, we would only give a bag to a fellow Christian. After explaining to her that we were not here to push our faith on her, but to help as we had felt called by our God to do so. She realized that she could feed her family for another week with the bag we offered. She asked if any of us (besides our guide from RABMin) could speak well enough to converse with her and I was the only person available. Maria could not comprehend why we would leave our comfortable lifestyle in America for Alajuela. I told her that I came here for people like her. I came to share love and a little food with wonderful people whom I hope never to forget. Maria couldn 't understand why others had refused the food we offered. She said that she could not believe in a God who watched her babies sleep without full