Two faces of hope:
G is a young man from the highlands of Guatemala. He has a beautiful mouthful of teeth alternating with gold pieces so his wide smile literally glitters. He is barely making it as an undocumented person but even this was better than being a sharecropper in Guatemala where the exploitation and abuse is even worse. His prayers during our weekly Bible study brought tears to my eyes. Faith in the midst of hunger--real, physical hunger. He is determined not to give up...
J is our long-term seriously alcohol addicted brother. A street person, he is neither clean, nor sweet smelling nor lovely to behold. Sometimes our small community gets offended when he staggers in to the Eucharist and conks out. He is also our evangelist to the Latino street community, a tough evangelist though. He's brought others to the Bible study before and then run them out because he didn't think they were doing right (and they really weren't). Today he brought A. A asked me to share my glasses with him so he too could read our Scripture passage. When we were finishing up for the evening, A dug around in his backpack and found a half-spoiled mango. With old-world courtesy, he gave it to me. When we'd finished our study, J took me to one side and said he thought this one could come back--what did I think? I said, of course.
When I let my blue funks get the best of me, there is so much I don't see. I am grateful for each time I am willing. I pray for more willingness.