The land cruiser lurched to an abrupt stop, sending our arms and legs into a tangle. A
bead of sweat began to trickle down my temple as I scanned the dirt path ahead. Leaning on both sides of the path appeared rows of dilapidated shacks, held together by a few makeshift walls consisting of blankets, sheet metal, sticks, rotten boards, and scraggly barbed wire. Within the cracks and crevices of the buildings lived hundreds of people, disheveled and in desperate need. “The truck won’t make it down there; you’ll have to walk,” announced our driver. Hesitantly, I hopped to the ground, unsure of where to start, but positive of the need for a food drop. I grabbed a single bag filled with rice, flour, beans, and a pound of lard and decided upon my destination. The contents of the bag meant nothing to me, but to the women I handed these contents to over the fence meant that her children would not go hungry. I have no idea of the woman's name, or what her circumstances were; yet, I, a complete stranger, was welcomed with an overwhelmingly appreciative smile and a heartfelt “God bless you.”
From 2,911 miles away from home, I began to realize that appreciation and thankfulness lacks in our society. My heart had never felt such joy and sadness at the same time as I realized the hardships these people faced on the daily basis. The people in Honduras were completely ecstatic, emotional, and thankful for receiving a bag of rice. I have taken so much for granted in my life—as we all do. I believe that our society needs to become more thankful and aware of how blessed we are to live in houses, to wear clothes, and to have shoes that fit our feet. This I believe.