Awake, and arise from the dust, O Jerusalem

November 2, 2004

Yesterday was a holiday--the "day of the living" and there were so many drunk people I couldn't believe it. Including people we know. We found out yesterday that Brother Asencios was drinking Sunday. The news hit me really hard and we're not quite sure what to do--we can only visit them. The alcohol is such a huge problem here that it's amazing. How many times have we had to postpone a charla because the person is drunk; how many people have approached us and bothered us in the streets because they're drunk...How many families are destroyed...how many children hurt or neglected...how much money is spent--wasted. Yesterday at about 6:00 a.m. we felt and heard a huge crash outside our window--two drunk young men were in a car and crashed into a post. They weren't so badly injured--they got out of the car, and disappeared, leaving the car completely ruined.

February 20, 2005

Sister Tineo told us about how her life with her husband (they're not married) has been. He drank, did drugs, and beat her a whole lot. But says that things are a little more peaceful now--after leaving him twice, and finally throwing an iron at his head--he drinks but goes to sleep after. But she says she loves him SO MUCH.

March 15, 2005

In the afternoon we taught two young ladies in the ghetto (chancadora) -- Fiorela is 17 and lives with her boyfriend and has already lost a baby. We watched a video with her but she's a child in another world. After, we taught another young lady with a son--she was so bored but tried to make it look like she cared. She said that people with money are the only ones with time on their hands to go around talking about God. They live in such a filthy, poor, sin-filled place. Their eyes are glazed over and they don't see any other reality....

Judge Ye

I approached the bus stop in my long skirt. I saw a boy sitting there with his girlfriend. They were both smoking.

"Do you want a smoke?" asked the boy, laughing with his eyes as he looked me up and down.

For a moment I raged inside, hating him for making fun of me in a way that only someone like him could. I felt self-righteous, uncomfortable, a little nervous. I hoped the bus would come soon.

"No, thanks," I said smiling. "I don't smoke." Which couldn't have been more obvious.

Then I sat down on the bench and picked up a newspaper. I was on my way to work to prepare missionaries to share the good news with the world. What did this young man know about my life?

What was his life like? Who was he? I remembered that people are people.

I looked up from my newspaper.

"Is that a longboard?" I asked him.

"Yes, it is," he said with a grin, admiring it.

I asked him about the difference between a longboard and a skateboard.

He told me all about it.

I told him I was afraid of falling off of one of those.

We chatted.

When the bus arrived, I went up the steps with a secret song in my heart. And although he boarded with his girlfriend and didn't look at me again, I knew I had won some kind of battle with myself.