The Language of Love

Essay by Holly_goody2shoesCollege, UndergraduateA+, May 2004

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It was about three weeks before school got out for Spring Break when I got the call from one of my friends. He told me that his church was planning on going to Juarez, Mexico on a missions trip over Spring Break. My parents had been struggling lately with finances and I knew that if I was meant to go that it would take nothing short of a miracle. About three days later my friend called me back and told me that since I was given such a short notice the church would pay my way. I knew right then and there that I was absolutely called to this mission trip.

The day arrived sooner than I thought. We would have to travel almost eight hundred miles to reach Jaurez, but even with that ahead of us I was excited. We were going to build a house for a widow and her three little boys.

I did not understand why we were building a house. The lady organizing this trip told us to not be surprised about anything that we saw. Two days later, we reached our destination. I was a little concerned about what I was about to see but I took a deep breath as we neared the construction site.

As we pulled into a little area called Tierra Nuevo, our guide Chue was explaining how the people had ended up in the area. They were actually living in the land fill because the Mexican Government had forced them to move. As we got closer to the job site I noticed that there was garbage everywhere and I asked our guide why it was so dirty. He replied that when the government had forced these people to move they had taken bulldozers and literally destroyed everything that...