Week 95 - The Miracle of Gratitude

Dear friends and family,

Two weeks ago I was hiking up a large, dirt hill deep into the community of “La Primavera” on the outskirts of my sector. We walked passed papaya tree after banana tree in this tropical paradise. We passed lots of cinder block houses and two dirt soccer fields with rusty goals. Many families build simple benches out here to put in front of their houses under shades built with wooden beams and sheet metal. We hike past those too and the people sitting on them. We were hiking with a purpose - to visit a family that hasn’t been at church for a few weeks. I had never before been so far back into La Primavera and it seems we arrived right at the perfect time to witness a scene that encompasses what I want to say about Mission Miracle #5: gratitude.

At the top of the large, steep hill, the cinder block houses gradually give way to huts constructed with little more than bamboo, plywood and sheet metal. Back here, the huts do not have running water and many don’t have electricity. Since water is essential for living, the people who live here have large tanks or big oil drums along the side of their house in order to store water. The tanks are dirty and stained a stale yellow from the sun but they hold life for the people. These are the poorest.

A water truck comes once a week from the city, travels up the long, steep hill and fills the storage containers at these houses. The trucks have the markings of the local water company but I believe their efforts are subsidized by the government or something. Truthfully I don’t know.  But what I do know is that the day of the week when the water truck comes can be very stressful. Everyone was outside watching the truck climb the hill and they were all very intense. I asked what was happening and a stranger explained that the previous week the truck couldn’t make it up the hill because the road was muddy from a few rainstorms the days before. Water was low in the tanks and the families were worried.

As I watched the truck creeping up the hill, the motor was groaning and the tires struggled to grip the pebbles and dust. The truck climbed slowly, then more slowly, and finally could advance no further and stopped. “Oh no, it can’t be!” The water was simply too heavy for the truck to continue advancing to the parts where it was needed most. The driver and his sidekick got out, evaluated the situation, looked around with expressions of reservation, and then opened the valve. The water rushed out of the truck and down the hill, quickly turning the dust and dirt into a soupy, orange sludge. It is an image I will never forget. Nor will I ever forget the sounds of crying, abandoned babies, left alone in front yards or just inside homes, their mothers' attention more focused on securing water for their homes. So many were crying.

Try to imagine the lives and thoughts of these people. What would it be like to watch the water you so desperately need, escaping away, and running down the hill? How much water would the men have to release to be able to continue the climb? And would there be enough left for everyone in the home? Will there be enough to drink? To cook? To wash clothes or clean? And if there is not, how much will it cost in money and effort to bring drinking water to the family until the truck comes again next week?
Back home in the US, I imagine it’s rare for any of us to ever be reduced to this level of “survival”. We live so, so well. I know I’ve never had to ever worry or ask myself these types of questions. Our country is so great and so advanced and so many of us don’t even know it.

Miracle #5 for me is that I’ve been deeply impacted here and feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything we have back home. A gratitude I didn't fully feel before. I will forever be thankful for being me and for having grown up in such a wonderful place as San Diego and in such wonderful conditions. Treasure every blessing we have. Be thankful. Our lives are amazing.

Love - EE