Infants to adults with no clothes on their backs and little resources of food and water. Families sleeping under boxes or very small shelters. I could count every rib in their bodies. Diseases covered them from head to toe. A little worried about getting too close. My heart cried out, “How are these people still alive? How could they be so poor?” Shoes made of cardboard boxes; some made of smashed plastic bottles for those who could afford something so small. The sight was awful, but the smell was worse. I suddenly felt so selfish. Tears began to fill my eyes; all I could do was cry.
I’ve grown up in a place where fashion and looks are everything. At school, on the town, and even at church. My birthday was right around the corner, big 15, and all I wanted was clothes and shoes.
After one Sunday service, my youth pastor came to me and asked if I had ever thought about going on a mission trip with the 14/6 Youth Group. “No, I really never thought about it, I don’t really think it’s the thing for me.” He just nodded, and said, “This December the youth is going on a mission trip to Matagalpa, Nicaragua and I was curious if you would be interested in going.” Millions of excuses began to fill my head, “Oh! I play basketball and ball season will still be going on during December, and I really don’t have the money to go on this trip with you, maybe next time.” He said he understood and that I should just pray about it and then he walked away. I felt so relieved, I DID NOT want to go on that trip or ever go on such a horrible trip so far away to a place known as the poorest country in the world. Nothing about that sounded exciting to a 15 year old girl.
Later that night I tossed and turned, horrible thoughts running through my head. Repulsive images about this place I had never been to before, but only heard awful things about kept me awake all night; I couldn’t sleep. I sat up and the craziest thought came to mind, “Maybe I will go on this mission trip.” so I called my youth pastor at 4 in the morning and told him I thought about what he said and I would go with the youth on the mission trip.
December came quick; the day after Christmas my parents drove me to the airport. I began to regret my decision, 15 hour plane ride crammed with 100 people, to the land of no return… I couldn’t wait. We loaded on the plane, this just didn’t sound like a good enough reason to skip a whole week of basketball. The plane took off, I fell asleep dreading what I was getting into. We arrived in Matagalpa, Nicaragua. When I stepped off that plane, my life changed.
Dear Reader: This page may contain affiliate links which may earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase. Our independent journalism is not influenced by any advertiser or commercial initiative unless it is clearly marked as sponsored content. As travel products change, please be sure to reconfirm all details and stay up to date with current events to ensure a safe and successful trip.
