It was June 23rd, after an exhausting day of travel including two flights, an hour long bumpy bus ride, and a hasty debriefing in a sketchy Wendy 's restaurant, my mission team reached our destination- Proyecto Manuelito, Talanga, Honduras. Dirty. Uncivilized. Foreign. My first impression of Talanga -A small town outside of the capital city, Tegucigalpa. There were potholes in the road, people wearing ragged clothes and expressions, and stray animals running about. The town was poverty struck. Yet when the bus rolled just out of town and pulled up too brightly colored gates, I couldn 't help but feel anxious. I was about to spend the next 12 days of my life inside of the gates. As the gate was pushed aside, revealing guards armed with …show more content…
As our journey came to an end, and our last night dawned, a small going away party for our team was held. Everyone gathered in the small building we used for church services, dining, and apparently parties. The plastic folding chairs were all set up in a big circle lining the edges of the room. As we all settled in, facing one another Jorgito, who is a founder of the project and our host, got up and spoke. He told us that some of the kids had something to say to us. One of the kids, a young girl around the age of 6 named Okaren jumped up and ran into the center of the circle. She began to speak. As her word were translated to us, my eyes welled up with tears. She spoke of how thankful she was that we were here. How God had brought us into her life as a blessing. And most importantly she spoke of how much she loved each and everyone of us. As she sat down, another jumped up. This time it was Sindy saying how she hopes God continues to impact our lives and lead us. Then it was Chacho. Saying how much we have changed his life and that he was grateful to meet all of us and become our friend. After chacho it was Brayan. Then Marcos. Then Chito. Gelen. Marisol. Ruth. Joanna. Marcello. Daniel.