Hey guys, lots has happened since Sept 5, my last blog. Being in my new country, I have noticed many things that are different from my first country, the USA. So one day, one of these differences was pointed out to me in a very direct way.

I went over to one of the neighbors house with my host mom, cousin, aunt and sister just for a visit. It was my first time meeting this lady. So as usual, when I meet someone for the first time, my host family gives them the rundown of who I am, what Im doing here and what I'm like. During my chat with this new lady she asked me
"Cual es aturata" which is how tall are you in English. I coulndn't really describe it in English so, because my height was so important to her, she whipped out a measuring tape and told me to stand up so she could measure me. HAHAHA. Talk about having the awkward laugh. Thats all I could do was laugh. If I said no I would be considered rude for rejecting this older persons request.

My height is just on of the many things stands out to others here. But an event occurred that will forever stand out in my mind.

It was lunch time, about 12:00pm and Emma and I ( one of the other NorthAmerican volunteers) were at a local outdoor restaurant. The restaurant was located right next to the main street. So, whoever walked on the sidewalk, I was close enough to make eye contact. We were both finishing up our meal when this man whom I will never forget.

The man was older maybe in his 50s. He had on an orange shirt that was so dirty, it looked like it was changing color to a black color as you got to the bottom of his shirt. He had on pants that were filthy and no shoes. He approached our table and asked if he could have the scraps on my plate. H e had a small sandwhich bag and was putting my scraps in his bag. Emma had a lot of food left on her plate so she told him that she could have the rest. So the man picked up here plate, and motioned to me to put the food in his shirt tail. He made something like a cup from his shirt to catch the food. Emma told him to sit with us and it the food instead. He sat and ate the food. he was asking us different questions, but we couldnt understand him. We were trying not to stare at him eating, but it was hard not to. It seemed like the longest 3 mins of my life.

when he was finished he rushed off. Emma and I coundn;t beleive what just happend. Being in Philadelphia, i have seen homeless people, worked in a homeless shelter and spoke with the people. But this experience was different. His hunger was different, his pain was different, his struggle was different and i had the opportunity to dine with him. what an honor.

That moring before I left the house I remember praying for God to help me be his hands and his feet today. I truly believe that was my oppurtunity. I wish I got the gentlemans name. Its always important wo give those who may feel nameless to remember that they are important and thier name matters to others.

A large part of me being here is to learn the language so I can hear peoples stories and better connect with them. But I have my times where i m like, " I dont want to speak spanish, "I want a break and only think in english" But He always reminds me that I need his perserverance and his joy and his strength and love to make it everyday. Everyday.

Thanks a bunch for all you guys comments, prayers and support. They all mean alot.

Gracias A Dios