I LOVE MEETING THE FAMILIES WE BUILD HOMES FOR.

They have so much joy in them, it’s infectious. After these meetings, I leave with a feeling of fullness, my own renewed joy for life. And part of that often comes from an inspiring, but difficult, lesson they teach me without meaning to.

We recently conducted an interview for a single mother, Rosa (name changed for privacy), who is hoping we can build a house for her and her four kids. They really need it. Their house is made of wood scraps and tarps pieced together, and the dirt floors are eroding down the mountain. No electricity, no running water. But Rosa was, of course, grateful as could be. The smile never left her face, and she never uttered a word of complaint. Speaking with her was delightful.

At the end of every interview, we ask to see around the family’s house. It helps give us a sense of their situation. She didn’t hesitate to hop up and show us every nook and cranny, and we soon arrived at her bedroom door, which had a padlock on it since they have no front door to lock. She called to her daughter for the key, but the daughter approached, blush- ing, and admitted that she had lost the key! They giggled about the situation for about five seconds; then, without the slightest hesitation whatsoever, Rosa picked up a large rock and started bashing the padlock with it. I was so stunned that I barely managed a few garbled words about how that wouldn’t be necessary before she had already broken the padlock off. I felt awful—even more so when I saw what was inside: just a mattress and some clothes on the floor.

This really affected me. I find it incredible how easily she parted with that padlock because I know for a fact that I could never have done that. I would have scolded my daughter for her carelessness, then searched for as long as it took to find the key. Anything to avoid a trip to Home Depot and $10 on a new padlock. I probably would have done it resentfully, too, pondering why I had been cursed with so many irresponsible people in my life. But, Rosa, who can barely afford to put food on the table thought nothing of it.

What’s more, she found joy in the moment.

It’s funny; I moved to Mexico thinking to change lives, but so many of these families already have a joy that surpasses anything material. I think God’s little joke on me was that I came here thinking of spreading Christianity, while he actually sent me here to learn it. So, Glory to Him who brings low our pride and brings joy to the lowly in the midst of their sufferings!

Written by Justin Frigerio - Work Trip Coordinator