St. Ignatius's The Eye: Volume LXXIX Number II

As the plane flew over the city, I was temporarily blinded by the reflection of the sun off of the seemingly endless desert of tin roofs on makeshift houses. The only thing I could think about was how impoverished everything looked, even before we landed. When we stepped out of the plane into the crowded streets, little shoeless boys immediately asked us for money. These were the poorest people I had ever encountered.
    While at our project, we got to know these people. They loved everything. They were not the sad, sickly, impoverished people that I had imagined. It did not matter to them that they did not have money and material things that they knew existed in America. A game of tag on a nice night, or a cold drink on a hot day made them smile more than I usually do in a week. These people were alive.
    Before I went to Honduras, I was expecting to come back and tell everyone about how bad they have it, and how we need to help. However, while that is true, I was the one who was helped. They made me realize that while we are driving in our cars, we can not smell the flowers that we are passing. We do not notice the amazing scene of the sun setting while we are being sucked into our computers and our cell phones. We are missing out on the awesome pictures that the clouds are making while we are absorbed into the pictures on our TVs. We are missing out on life.
    I am not saying that possessions are evil and that you should give up all you own. I only ask that you realize that there is more. It is my hope that you can still find fun in playing tag; that the next time you take a sip of a drink, you realize how refreshing it is as it goes down. I hope you can still be awestruck by clouds and sunsets. I hope the next time you pass a flower you smell it. I hope you remember that you are alive.
    I went to Honduras and left behind the richest people I have ever encountered.