Boxes and boxes

Our Delta pilot promised us the ride of our lives. He delivered. We stared out of our cabin portal across the wing of the plane trying to measure a distance between mountainside and wingtip that could be calculated in inches. Our stomachs lurched as he dropped altitude and swerved like he was racing through rush hour traffic.  applause rang out in the cabin as the jet's wheels hit the tarmac. All the while I was thinking, "Why are you fools clapping? We haven't stopped yet."

Many of us felt like stars as we exited the plane and walked down a set of roll out stairs onto the runway the way owners of private jets do. With everyone's bags were accounted for except Billy's, actually we found his bag right away but he kept denying it was his,  we were on our way. Florida's favorite son, aside from Tebow, Cisco had joined us after several years away and we were ready to go to work. We stepped out of the airport and saw what I never thought we'd see in my lifetime.  A shaved headed Mark Connell directed several Honduran's who's  hands reached for our bags and marched off towards our bus  like ants taking food from a picnic. 

Growling stomachs dictated our next move. We played frogger darting through traffic in an effort to cross the street and get to either Little Caesar's, Burger King, or Church's Chicken. 

Sated, we piled into our bus and headed to our first worksite, the Mi Esperanza warehouse. Emily Chaffin's bright smile and infectious laugh carried through the air straight into our hearts as soon as we walked in. We were all so excited to hear her news. She told us how she'd fallen in love with another missionary and that they were engaged. Just kidding Phyllis. She was very happy though. 

In the warehouse boxes of various sizes were stacked from floor to ceiling in a haphazard fashion. Everyone of them had been passed to us through the hands of our own church members. Thank you for all the many hours of collecting and organizing spent making sure we'd have what we needed.

After filling the back of our bus with boxes as well as two large cargo trucks and made our way to Julio's Mission house eager for our first cup of Honduran coffee. Dinner was served and we went off to our rooms and a glacier cold shower. The sound of rain lulled us to sleep as we closed our eyes dreaming of our first full day in Honduras.