





As we travled back down the dusty road cut through the lush mountains, I pondered the week we had in Guatemala and all that I saw. Then I thought about my heritage. My father was a lawyer and elected to a position of judge in the capitol, but he grew up on a farm. As I gaze out the window of the van, I see many things:cows, donkeys, chickens roaming free, half built cinderblock buildings, road construction (yes, they have it here too), lush mountains, corn fields and people, lots of people. People selling food and wares to the cars sitting in traffic or passberby. Most are dark skinned from being in the sun all day, everyday. These are people I rejected as a young child because I was born in America so I am "American". I wanted to fit in and didn't want to speak the language because it wasn't "cool" to be different.
But this week we talked in devotion time about really looking at the faces of the people we are working with and seeing beyond. These are God's creations, albeit shorter in stature, darker skinned and perhaps with slightly different world views but they need the hope and faith in Christ that we share in our faith community. They don't own a lot of possessions but that's not what they need...they need to know they are children of God, that they will have a safe place to raise their families, a place to cook their food and to have enough food to feed their family. Theirs is a simiple existence. Having extended family support and health are an integral part of their existence.
Can we hope to touch the lives of these families and the others as we come to build homes and give hope? Can we help them seek Him first? That's our constant prayer. So now that I use my language skills (Yes, I did begin to speak the language as an adult) to translate and help each team member connect and build relationships with the very people I didn't want to be connected with it changed my perspective. I know that they are all God's children and some share our faith and our hope but others need to hear God's word. Being able to communicate with them was great but instantly sharing that faith, not quite so easy without building the relationship. I can only hope that I was a facilitator to the team to help bridge that gap.
So I greatly appreciate everything my parents did, coming to the US without speaking the language and trying to get out of the poverty to make a better life for their children. They gave their children a foundation to seek HIM first and although we, their children, left the Catholic church, we all strove to have closer relationships with God. So I leave Guatemala with amazement at what my parents had to do to leave their homeland and gratitude for the opportunity to see more of the country they grow up in and the people that make up this impoverished country and the understanding of their culture.
Thank you for letting me share my story and reflections. I leave you with some extra pictures of our work week as I couldn't possibly post every single picture we took. Blessings!
Cindy Dube
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