Friday, August 2, 2019
Mission Trip in Rio de Janeiro Essay -- Observation Essay, Descriptive
Mission Trip in Rio de Janeiro The second I walked in the door, I knew it was different than any other place I had visited that week. There was a presence of love and happiness hovering in the air. I could feel it; it was so strong. I didn't want to leave that beautiful place called Compassion International. In July 2000, I went to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil for a mission trip. One of the days, we visited the kids of Compassion International. Compassion International is a program in which people from the U.S. can send money, letters and other gifts to underprivileged children in different countries. The place I visited was a school/church where the kids went if they were the ones receiving the sponsorship. This was the best place I visited the whole time I was in Brazil. We did so many awesome things during our trip, but this small three or four hour visit changed my entire life. Children of all ages were walking around when we took our tour of the facilities. Some of these kids came from neighborhoods that had gun shootings, drugs and other violence. Other kids didn't even come from a neighborhood. They were homeless, lived in the dump and didn't know when their next meal would be coming or from where. When I looked at these kids, I couldn't see their home life reflected in their clothing or faces. They were well dressed, clean, and most of all, they had smiles on their faces. The tour of the facility was remarkable. It was huge considering how poor the country is. They had numerous classrooms where the children would learn reading, writing, and arithmetic and study the Bible. A playground for the small children and a small pool for the older ones were available in the courtyard. There was even an American flag ... .... Her unbreakable smile and the sparkle in her eyes told of the Savior she had. Some of the songs she led were familiar, but some weren't. The cool thing was, they were all in Portuguese, and we didn't care! We sang along in English while they sang in Portuguese. The language barrier we had didn't matter. We had the same God, and He made all the difference. After a couple hours in the chapel, we ran out of time at Compassion International. I didn't get to talk to any of the Brazilians there except the little ones when they gathered around us, but I still cried when we left. I felt so close to these people despite the culture differences. As I walked out the door, I realized the presence I felt when I walked in wasn't just a feeling of love and happiness, but the Holy Spirit, who brought me to Compassion International for an experience I will never forget
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