Central American Memoirs- Real Life Stories from Honduras

 I am a high school ESL teacher in Honduras. My family and I have lived here for a little over 5 years serving in the community and church as missionaries. What exactly is missions?
This country is quickly criticized and its migrants judged. Migrants need help and support, there are many ways to help in your community

I hope by reading this story your viewpoints and opinions of undeveloped countries will change.   Leaving their families behind is not something that migrant workers want to do, but unfortunately, the hope of survival bids them farewell. A migrant isn't just someone who comes illegally, but also those who come legally looking for a way to support their family.

 A few weeks back we worked on personal narratives in class.  I love personal narratives because it is a way to get to know your students.  Some students choose meaningful stories while others just write something because they have to.  I was particularly impressed by one of my student's work. Not only was it well written but the story brought tears to my eyes.  Don't forget this personal narrative is written in English which is the student's second language

Long Time No See
by Nedy Chávez 11th Grade TLCBS

Have you ever had this feeling where everything feels surreal? All your surroundings are meaningless; nothing else matters. Just that one thing. That's what happened to me, and it was one of the best moments I have ever had.

Six years. Six long years since my dear dad left to work in the United States. He left when I was just two years old. The only contact we had since then was from behind a screen. Until one cold day, people crying, complete sadness, a nice white coffin lying in a room. My grandmother remained only in our hearts, and everyone was there to honor her memory. 

Suddenly, my babysitter asked me, "Who is that man standing over there?" With curiosity, I looked carefully and saw someone unexpected. Happiness running through my body; energy, sadness. I had all these mixed feelings and sensations in me. I ran as fast as I could and hugged the mysterious man who was my father. My sisters followed me. All of us, in one big hug; crying. My mom was watching us from a distance with a big smile. We could have stayed there forever. 

"I love you, my dear daughters," he said.  We all kept hugging, everyone watching, a beautiful moment, as he gave us a warm kiss on our foreheads. Still hugging, we entered the house. He was sad because of his mother, but happy at the same time. We never separated from one another. We sat together, continuing with the sad and hurtful event. His cheeks were warm and wet as he gazed at his mom, my grandmother, laying still, lifeless and all alone.

I realized that my family is the most important thing in life. Family will always be there, no matter the circumstances. That moment will be etched into my mind every single day for the rest of my life. My dad will always be in my heart, making me a better person. It was a bittersweet moment because we lost someone dear to us, but also God brought us someone we missed so much. 



3 Ways to Turn Stumbling Blocks Into Stepping Stones

"The only difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is the way in which we use them."

Stepping Stones in a tropical garden with text overlay "3 Ways to Turn Stumbling Blocks into Stepping Stones"

I feel like God always speaks to me through the normal, mundane things that happen in life. I had taken a picture of my daughter jumping from stepping stone to stepping stone in a beautiful tropical garden not far from our home here in La Ceiba, Honduras. While editing the picture 'the stumbling block into stepping stone thing' came to my mind. I wrote a small caption "Turning Stumbling Blocks into Stepping Stones" with the picture and posted it on Instagram a few weeks ago. However, I couldn't get it out of my head.  I knew the Lord had more to say than what I wrote on that post. 


What Exactly is Missions?

Street facade in the city with overay "What Exactly is Missions"
My idea of missions has drastically changed since my first short term missions trip when I was 12.  It was when I originally felt that longing in my heart to be a "missionary", to live in a different culture and help people.