I have been an active member in the Field Street Baptist Youth Group for five years in my home town of Cleburne, Texas. Every other summer the juniors and seniors of the youth group take an international mission trip. Nervously, on June 8 of 2007, I had the opportunity to go on this international mission trip to Denia, Spain, even though it would be my first time to fly in an airplane. Unfortunately, the travel agency we used booked our flights too close, so when we left late from Dallas Fort Worth Airport because of a technology crash, we also missed our flight from Miami to Madrid, Spain. This then caused a chain reaction of misfortunes for the group. There were no more flights out of Miami that night, therefore we checked into a hotel with no luggage, except for our carryon bags. The next day our group of twenty people got on a plane from Miami to New York, and once in New York we had a connecting flight to London. Finally, once in London we would switch airlines and make our way to Spain after forty hours of travel and still wearing the same close that we started off in. After all of our trials in getting to Spain, it didn’t end upon our landing because the airlines didn’t transfer our boarding passes; therefore we had to purchase all new plane tickets. After standing and waiting for many hours we had to run to our terminal at the opposite end of the airport. During our race to catch our plane, I took a hard fall on the escalator, and gnashed my knee open. With blood streaming down my leg and tears blurring my vision, I made it to my plane seat right on time for the last plane ride to Valencia, Spain. Exhausted from travel, we all climbed in to vans for the last hour of our travel to Denia, Spain.

Stinky after fifty four hours of travel, we made it to our rooms at the school where we were staying at. We woke up the next day to still have no luggage, so we walked into town to the market and bought clothes to get us by for a few days until the airports found our luggage. I was so excited to receive my luggage the next day, but it didn’t last long after I opened the zipper to find have my clothes had been wet and now smelt of mildew. God really humbled me with all my misfortunes that week, but I received so much blessing in return for that lesson. The next four days we spent our time teaching Spanish children English, and reconstructing their prayer garden at their school. I was placed with the fourth graders and what a stroke of luck that it was. A friend of mine, Andrew, and I taught the kids crafts, cool handshakes, and all the colors in English. The kids also loved to take pictures with us on our digital cameras, and have us spray them with the water hose at recess to cool them off after learning American sports.

The best part of the week was when we shared the gospel with the children and invited them to the church we were going to attend on the following Sunday. God saved two of the children and one of the teacher’s assistant. I pray the children in Spain never forget the impact we made, because I will never forget them and the blessings I received from serving them.