Home Sweet Home

I thought Thursday was going to be a welcome to Honduras day before I ever left St. Louis. I got on the plane and went to sleep. About 30 minutes later I woke up and knew the plane was on the ground and I felt sure it was not on the ground in Miami. I thought I would for sure miss my connection. I turned on the phone to call Marc and tell him things were not very promising.

Before I got Marc's number dialed, Nicole called me. I could feel disappointment welling up from deep inside. I so wanted to be home.

When I complained to Nicole, she chastised me, saying, "Mom, don't you think God can answer the little prayers as well as the big ones." I guess she had a point. The longer we sat in St. Louis, the more I resigned myself to it is what it is. I was hoping to be home, but if I should be in a hotel in Miami, I could think of worse things. A warm bed, food and a bath tub isn't so bad.

Upon arriving in Miami, the stewardess said if you are the Tegucigalpa passenger go directly to the gate. At least there was hope. The Miami airport is not arranged in such a way that makes getting from one concourse to another an easy task. I was walking as fast as I could and carrying my laptop, which I probably should not have been carrying that soon after surgery. I walked right on the plane and found my seat. I had already figured out the plane to Tegucigalpa was delayed or I would not have been on it. It was further delayed. Many were grumbling. I was thanking God that I made my connection. And those cashews came in quite handy.

I was sure I would not see my luggage in Tegucigalpa until Friday. I was wrong again. Somehow, all of my luggage made it.

I was so happy to see Marc.

After hugging everyone at Casa de Esperanza, I came down here to my house and called it a day.

Yesterday, I took the time to notice what had been happening while I was gone. No one has ever accused Hondurans of being lazy.

The cottage has been stuccoed inside and outside. The electrical is installed. Plumbing well on its way. Part of the the flooring is in. As I walked through, the rooms are beginning to look like bedrooms. I could almost hear the happy sounds of chilren's voices filling those rooms.

And I am just glad to be home.

Terri