The southern adventures of the Damascus Way director.

Dear Friends of Damascus Way:

On February 27, 1999, my wife Cindy, our son-in-law David and I left for our third short-term mission trip, this time to Honduras. Last fall, Hondurans suffered tragic loss from Hurricane Mitch. Well over 5300 people were confirmed dead and over 8000 are still missing. Hundreds of thousands were left homeless and today many thousands are still living in shelters and temporary housing.

Most of our 10-day outreach was spent at the village of Pueblo Nuevo, located in the mountains about an hour and a half west of the Caribbean Coast. Part of the village had been built along a mountain river and during the floods from Hurricane Mitch 16 homes had literally been washed down river. A relief team from the United States had erected temporary shelters made of 2"x2"s and tarp material. Ours was the first of two teams to construct what will eventually be 50 brick homes. Cindy and I worked for four days with a team of about 15 village men and women cutting and tying steel bars for re-enforcement of the foundations and walls. We also had a turn at brick laying, mortar mixing, cement bag carrying and brick unloading.

The village of Pueblo Nuevo, which means "new town" in English, was a village dependent mainly on agriculture. They were suffering financially because of the loss of sugar cane plants and banana trees in the hurricane. The villagers were by anyone's standard a very poor people before the destruction and now are in need of basic provisions. The warehouses on the coast of Honduras are full of food and clothing but the distribution to the villages is very poor. From my observation, the Honduran churches carry most of the burden for transporting provisions to the needy. An organization called Samaritan's Purse, directed by Franklin Graham, supplied building materials and our sister church in Honduras provided much of the labor for the construction of the homes we saw.

The villagers had all agreed to help each other build their homes in an order decided by a drawing. The permanent homes were constructed in back of the temporary shelters built earlier. All construction was done on property far from the rivers this time to avoid last fall's disaster. The two U.S. teams expected to construct about five homes; after that, the villagers will be on their own to complete the 50-home project. Being able to help people in such great need, in such a practical way, and to see homes take shape was all the reward I would ever desire. However, our mission did not end with helping them build homes. We were privileged to share the gospel with those who worked alongside us. After working with and talking to several dozen local men and women the team developed friendships and trust with them. Sharing our faith was natural. Each of us had the privilege of praying with various individuals who desired to trust Christ as Savior.

The reality of life in the small village of Pueblo Nuevo became clear to me one day when a woman called me to the front of her shelter where she was holding a girl about two years old. The child had fallen into an open fire and had horrible third degree burns, which burned the flesh off the back of her hand and forearm. I have attended First Aid and CPR classes almost every year for 20 years, and knew that after placing the burn in cool water I should have called 911. In Pueblo Nuevo however the nearest doctor is an hour away. And those without money will not be treated. This little girl was in danger of infection. I had an antibacterial cream in my pocket so I instructed the mother to gently apply the cream. All I could do then was give the mother instructions on how to care for the burn and pray that the wound didn't become infected.

Our visit to Honduras had begun with a bittersweet stop at the orphanage. The eighty children living there came running when they saw our bus pull into the gate, and delighted in holding our hands, clinging to us and playing games. We communicated in limited Spanish. Their supper consisted of three small, dry pancakes without butter or syrup. I had noticed that the children, ranging from age five to 13, were very respectful and polite, but ate that meal with intensity. We'd been sent on our way with hugs and kisses and a bidding to please come again.

I carried that image with me throughout the following days, feeling much sorrow for their lot in life. Our team saw many other children, though, living on the street, in rags, without shoes, who would have welcomed a meal of three dry pancakes. So when we returned to the orphanage on our last day, laden with cakes and sweet treats, I concluded that though these little ones neither had nor knew their parents, they were fed, clothed and cared for by a loving staff. Their lives were not the best, but they were healthy, attending school and holding a chance for a normal future.

It would be impossible for me, I believe, to experience such a trip without changing what I consider important in my life. I can thank God again for all we take for granted in this country and recommit to giving that glass of cool water to the thirsty. Those thirsty for salvation -- both here in our back yard and throughout the world. People need the Gospel, and sometimes even the most basic of provisions. I can never again forget they exist.

In His Service,

Dick Harden,