A Rock Feels No Pain

In despero , obscurum ; In Diligo , Lux lucis. (In despair, darkness; In Love, Light). -Me

Mission: Dominican

Mission: Impossible

Mission: San Marcos

Well. It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything, and longer still of any substance; and this one, too, is delayed, but I am still processing, still trying to think of all that went on, that I learned and felt and the times we shared.

So, practical things first. A couple of weeks ago, on the 28th of June, 21 people set out at the crack of dawn. Sixteen kids, from 14-18, and five adults, from some age to 47. We met at 0-dark’thirty, at the Church, and boarded a chartered school bus. We rode said bus, to the Newark, NJ, airport, and got off at terminal C. (It would have been silly to get off anywhere else, because that’s the terminal the flight was departing from, you see. I know you were worried about why we chose that terminal, and now you know).

Anyway, we herded and corralled, and counted heads a lot, and worked 21 people through security, immigration, boarding-pass checks, and onto the plane. A few (short!?!?!?) hours later, about 1230, we disembarked at Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, and began a great adventure in hard work, sharing, laughter, tears; in working, building, sweating, bleeding; in short, we started a week of mission work to the San Marco area of the Diocese of The Dominican Republic.

I can’t tell you, how proud of those kids, I am. Sixteen teenagers, working in dirt, shoveling, carrying concrete, heaving buckets of water (“Mas Agua! Mas Agua!”). We dug, we sweat, we panted; we sang, we laughed. We made friends, even across the language barriers. We learned that in this country, in our cozy little tiny-village lives (Yeah, small- the population of the “bigger” village, where our church is located, is estimated at 6663, as of 2007; the hamlet I live in, next to that village, is so tiny they don’t measure population separately from the surrounding areas), just how blessed we are, how fortunate.

We spent that week working, on a building site that will eventually become a Church, School and shelter for single- moms. Our little band turned out to be the first group in. The Padre we worked with had never had a mission group to work with before, and indeed, we were the ground breakers for the entire project.

Not to minimize the physical, for the kids did an incredible job, considering- 250′ of trench for a foundation, 18” deep and wide; concreted mixed, barrowed and poured that length, and cinderblock wall to about 4′, for most of that length, using hand tools like hoes, shovels and picks; some of our young ladies are almost five feet tall, and might weigh 100 lbs, and they worked without a serious complaint, for a week, in temperatures that approached 100, with 90% plus humidity. Not a single one of us were seriously hurt; as the designated first-aide guy, I had to flush two kid’s eyes, one for a bit of rock chip, and one for sunscreen dripping, but other than that my primary concern was blisters, hydration, and sunblock. (After all, I had to bring ’em back in the same shape I took ’em from moms and dads, right?).

So, the upshot, was a lot of hard physical labor.


The most wonderful parts, had nothing to do with that. As great as they were at work, the gang of kids were even better, at mission and outreach, at connecting and friendships. Each one, in their own way, joined hands with neighbors and friends that we hadn’t met yet. Smiles, laughter, little ditties in Spanish, little ditties in English, clapping to the beat of songs we didn’t know, couldn’t recognize, set the stage for a deeper relationship. (I wish I could remember some of the little movements and words, to a little thing we learned from a 14 year-old gal, that first night; we have video, but I don’t have it here, but oh Lordy, we laughed!).

Some of the things that stand out, with crystal clarity-

  • The Dominican workers refusing lunch until we, the “guests”, had eaten; and, on the last day, when they realized they’d not purchased enough food for the entire week- watching them eat ketchup sandwiches; some of which, were cut in half, so each would get something.
  • The grandmother of one of the little girls opening her home, humble as it was, so we could use her bathroom- and, although clearly impoverished, offering me a cup of cafe, as if she had gallons to spare. (I know she didn’t, because 1. I could see her supply of coffee, and it wasn’t much, and 2. All water had to come from bottles, you’d no more brew gallons of coffee than you’d water plants with your drinking water).
  • The look on a couple of our teenager’s faces, when they realized, in horror, that one of the workers was barefoot not by choice, but because he didn’t own a pair of shoes. The look on those same faces, as well as the worker’s, as they took him to the little peddler’s cart and bought him a pair of shoes.
  • Later, the gratitude on Joan’s (Pronounced jo-ahn, and it’s a male name- we kept wanting to call him Yohann, lol) face, too, when he received a pair of shoes from the feet of one of the boys. (Does it count that I did bring some of ’em home shoe-less, albeit healthy?)
  • The gentle kindness of the Padre, as he bent to speak to the little girls that flocked around us, after we started our days with a prayer service in the teeny shed that acted as the church, for now, explaining why they couldn’t wheel the wheel barrows full of sacks of concrete up the street for us.

There’s so much more, so many little things that I can’t recount, I can’t express some of it yet, I’m still processing the whole trip, the whole community we formed to go, and expanded while we were there; the welcome we were given to join that far-off group, the love we all held, and showed.

Why, today, am I writing this? Well, cuz we had a follow-up meeting with the ‘gang’, today, after Church. We managed, it seems, to raise a substantial amount more than we needed, and the kids decided it would be appropriate to give it back to our parish, who had contributed so much to the trip; but, they also decided, on their own, that they needed to continue this connection, and all we heard for an hour, was how they could do more for the people of San Marcos.


It costs $300.00 (US), per year, to send a child to school, up through high-school. That includes tuition, uniform, books, etc. So our gang, today? They figure that if each of the twenty of us did just a little bit, per month, that we probably wouldn’t even miss, well; “Pauloa, Joan, Roberto… they could go to school!”


Proud, I am, so proud of that gang.

And I love ’em all, each one.


Filed under: blessings, friends, friendship, God, musings, spirituality, , , , , , ,

15 Responses

  1. beryl says:

    Ohmigosh…this is amazing and poignant and email me will you? I’d like to send you something toward the effort. Very proud of you and yours. xox Beryl

  2. Dave says:

    Beryl: Thank you, it was indeed an amazing and poignant time, all around. I emailed you… and thanks, again!

  3. Craig says:

    Thanks for this, Dave. As I said, our son went to the DR last summer; don’t know if he went to San Marcos, or some other place, but the work sounds very similar – clearing ground, digging trenches, pouring concrete. Our ‘mission director’ collected a suitcase full of shoes before they left, and checked it thru as an ‘extra bag’, for just the situation you described. . .

    Our neighbor girl just left yesterday, in fact, for her own week-plus in the DR; I should ask her when she gets back, just where she’s been.

    No tarantula stories? 😉

  4. Cocotte says:

    This is so awesome! I went on a few mission trips in high school and I cherish those memories. Thank you for sharing your story.

  5. Dave says:

    Craig: I remember you telling me about him, and yes, it does sound exactly the same. I wish I’d known, or thought of, shoes- such an easy thing for us, so hard, for them.

    And no, no tarantula stories, lol- but I was careful to shake out my boots each morning, just in case! Of course, we did see a few large spiders, which we were able to tease Mother S about, lol- she hates ’em!!

    I’ll keep your neighbor’s mission in my prayers, and add to our parish list- so let her know when she gets back that there’s a parish that did that, as well.

    Cocotte: They are great memories, I wish I’d had this type of opportunity then, as well- but I’ll take it now, as well, and be grateful for the chance!

  6. Melissa says:

    What great kids. It’s so easy to forget, when we’re wishing we had such-and-such or a better so-and-so, how so many people in the world don’t have what we’d consider essentials and how little it takes to help. I’ll say it again – what great kids.

  7. Dave says:

    Melissa: So true. I’m boring all my friends, acquaintances, and total strangers, by raving about how proud of them I am. But you are so right, I’m sure not gonna argue with you!

  8. tam says:

    what an amazing trip you all had! Wish i had gone. I’ve never been on a mission trip, never out of the country. I’ve seen and heard lots about the trips, but never been on one. One day!!

    Dave, you truly are an amazing Christian. 🙂

  9. Dave says:

    Tam: Thanks, so much- it was great, and I hope you do get a chance to go, too. Not sure ’bout amazing, but thanks for that, too.

  10. autumn says:

    that was very beautiful and inspirational to read. i admire your efforts greatly. it’s amazing to see people so impoverished give so very much of themselves. it’s a whole other world, isn’t it? those folks appreciate the simpler things in life. they find joy in the smallest of things. we can all learn from their kind and loving natures.

  11. Dave says:

    Autumn: yeah, it really was a powerful experience, all around. Thanks for coming by, too!

  12. We haven’t talked in so long (and when we have, it’s been all about me) so I had not heard the wonderful stories of the DR. I am weeping with joy at the actions of these remarkable kids and the adults who chaperoned. You are so blessed (as I am blessed to know you).

  13. Dave says:

    redheadeditor: Thanks, it was a joyful trip overall 🙂

  14. Beryl says:

    Left you an award over on my blog. Thanks for everything, D.

    • Dave says:

      Thanks Beryl, I can’t view itproperly at the moment, I’m in China and some areas are restricted; but I didn’t want you to think I’m ignoring your comment, either! � I hope all is well, and I’ll be doing catch up reading asap, promise!


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