"TEEECHER!"

This is what 50 year old Alejandrina screams to me every time she arrives at English class. One hand thrown in the air as she crosses the threshold of her tiny church in Chimalaucan, she bounds over to the sanctuary-turned-classroom and embraces her teachers with kisses and belly laughs. At her side, tucked in the folds of her red-checked apron, she clutches 2 dixie cups of some homemade Mexican delight she's brought us "for our long travel." Coffee-flavored flan, rich fruit-flavored yogurts, lime gelatin pie--Alejandrina is staying good on her promise to make us "gorditas" by graduation day.

After a sweet minute or two of chitchat, our students take their seats, pull out their homework, and begin copying down the English-Spanish Bible verses on the board. The only sounds beneath the sagging church roof are papers shuffling and under-the-breath attempts at English phonics; these diligent students are forever spoiling me in the teaching profession!

Well, the MWF adult "alumnos" are, at least. We teach six different classes down here in Mexico City, and each has its own character. The children's class at Iglesia Dios con Nosotros, for instance, stars Jorge and Lupita, two of the shiest, smilingest little kids, the kind I want to pack up and bring home to show you. Lupita doesn't go to the Church, she just happened ("happened") to be walking by during registration and begged her mom to sign her up. Pray with me her family will see God's love in our service and in the brothers and sisters at the Church. Pray that Lupita will yearn for words of life like she longs to know words in English.

Then there is our other class of ninos at Iglesia Adonai. I teach them English, they teach me patience. I thought the only way we'd get through the rest of the month with them was to play Bingo for the entire hour, the only activity they like enough to keep them from hitting and talking mean to one another. But yesterday we prayed for the Spirit of Peace in the classroom, and wouldn't you know, they were downright angelic. See picture. :)

Then there is the hotel class. For years Hotel San Fransisco has hosted the staff and volunteers of Operation Serve International for entire summers, and this summer, we are able to give back through our English classes. I cannot tell how much these students, most grown adults with families, bless my life while I'm here. Not only are they super studious, always looking over their worksheets from behind the hotel's front desk or practicing on us during meal time, but they are becoming the most precious friends, too. As our maid, Eugenia, cleans my room I get to sit and hear her story...I get to tell her that the Lord is her perfect Husband and Maker, even though her earthly one was not. Sometimes during class our students turn the tables and begin to educate us on their own language and culture. During our lesson on body parts, for instance, I learned that Mexico City literally means "Belly Button of the Moon," as the former Aztec Empire was the self-declared "Center of the Universe." Even as I write this post from the lobby, I'm eating a "mamey" fruit that one of the waiters, Pablo, brought to work today from his pueblo. During class on Friday, Jackie and I couldn't give him the English word for mamey because we had no idea what mamey was. Turns out it's rare and costly, but Pablo bought one for us to try. And let me tell you, it's delicious.
...Please pray with me that these friendships can be seeds. That this would be good soil.

Well, there are so many more stories to tell, and now that I have this blog, I'll try to be better about telling them. :)
Thanks so much for your prayers and support...you are richly blessing the lives of the people here. Many of the people have never had an opportunity like this--I believe these classes help remind them that they're valuable. I wish you, yourself, could feel their hugs and hear the way they cry out, "Teeecher!"