Planting Bamboo

When all the groups come in the summer, they stay in a place called Villa Gracia. We call it the mission house. The mission house is at the top of El Hatillo. El Hatillo is a mountain where many of the rich people of Tegucigalpa live. As we drive up and down everyday, we see a squatter village. Trust me, no one is rich in this village. Little shacks have been constructed in which people live. Marc decided a few years ago we would do a food distribution in this squatter village. How could we not? After we had worked all day and were driving up to have a hot meal, a hot shower, and a warm bed, how could we drive past this village and do nothing?

One time I was standing on the road, looking down on the village as our group distributed food. We heard this woman, after she received food, weeping with joy and saying gracias a dios (thanks to God). Each year there are more and more people in this village, all of them hungry and with very few possessions.

Last year we did a food distribution. But before the end of the trip, we saw something happening and it angered me. The rich people were planting bamboo along the road side. I guess they did not want to look at that squatter village and the poverty and the unpleasantness that comes with seeing. Today I drove up El Hatillo and I noticed the bamboo was growing well. I was angry again. It won't take too long before the bamboo grows tall enough that no one will have to look at this village again.

But as I thought about that bamboo, I realized so many times we all plant bamboo, if not literally, at least figuratively. Don't we plant bamboo, or wish we could, when we drive by East St. Louis, or West Pittsburg, or south Columbus? Don't we plant bamboo when we see a child with AIDS or is hungry? Don't we wish we could plant bamboo and hide all the unpleasantness this world has to offer? I hope I quit planting bamboo and really start seeing the needs that God wants me to see and then do what I can to help with those needs.

Terri