Dear Saints John & Paul Parish,
So, you’re probably wondering: how was my trip? I’ve gotten this question at least a million times in my first week home, and there is still no short answer I can think of. ‘Good’, just doesn’t encompass how I feel about Honduras. It was so much more.
Just as it is difficult to explain your faith in a God you can’t see, it’s not easy being an ambassador for a trip you can’t put into words. While I could think of twenty different stories to tell you, I’ll keep it simple with the highlight of my trip: our visit to a malnutrition center. Most of these kids are too small to even remember my being there, but I will never forget them.
I fell in love with sassy Jamie who thought it was more fun to pour bubbles on herself then blow them. I danced with Carlos. I cuddled Samuel, who preferred eating my shirt instead of his food.
One of my favorite children was Saul (photo), or more affectionately known as ‘Squishy’, who became attached to me during our visit. I was holding Squishy while looking through the center’s before and after photo book of the kids they have nursed back to health. It is painful to look at, and I couldn’t help but tear up, seeing the level of cruelty these children endured before they could even walk.
Saying goodbye to those babies was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I left the malnutrition center, and this trip as a whole, unsatisfied. I knew going into this that I wasn’t going to solve the poverty crisis in Honduras in 5 days, and that this was only a small piece of the puzzle. I didn’t feel the sense of accomplishment that I thought I would. I’ve returned home with a tick, this unexplainable itch, constantly in the back of my mind. It’s a deep dissatisfaction with the world as I know it. I wanted to do more. There is so much work to be done, and it’s simpler than you think. A pair of shoes. A bottle of water. The things we take for granted aren’t accessible.
You would think that I would be eager to go home after being in a country where the plumbing is so poor you can’t even flush the toilet paper, but it’s entirely the opposite. I never wanted to leave Honduras. I would willingly take cold showers everyday, endure scorching heat, and jeopardize my own safety outside of the United States, if it meant staying in Honduras just a little longer. Anyone can go without the everyday luxuries we’re accustomed to for a mere 5 days, but what struck me the most was that for these people, there is no escape. There is no air conditioned house to go back to, no source of clean water, no pantry full of food. So I thought to myself: how can these people be so happy when they can barely afford a new pair of shoes? However, the real question is: how can I be so unhappy when the world is at my feet?
I would like to thank the parishioners at saints John and Paul sending us your much needed prayers (and shoes!), Father Mac, who supported this trip from the beginning, Soles4Souls, for its incredible work to create a sustainable end to poverty, our trip chaperones, who did vital work behind the scenes that made our experience truly unforgettable, and finally, the people I met in Honduras, for their warm welcome to our wild group of Americans and impact that they have left on me.
I walked out of the Pittsburgh international airport with the hope that this would not be goodbye to Honduras forever, but a “see ya later”, as I intend to hold these people in my heart forever, and want to one day return.
Love,
Megan