NEWSLETTER: JANUARY, 2008

I'm aware it's January, a new month and a new year, but our Christmas Eve was so special that I wanted to write you about it. After all, you made this special night possible.

Spectrum starts in the afternoon of Christmas Eve; not unlike Santa preparing his load, motivating his reindeer and being sure Rudolph has his nose plugged in correctly for a long trip.

With our little Christmas bus loaded with gifts, we headed out to a rather remote barrio overlooking the Pacific. This particular barrio is just a wide span of hills, dirt roads and rabbit trails with little one-room houses dotting the landscape. "Lazaro Cardinas" is a new community where we have been working. A few days prior, we gave notice that we would be there with gifts. As we rolled in, there were about two hundred kids and adults waiting for us, some having walked for miles to get there. We had brought with us produce, blankets, tarps for the adults and gifts for the kids. The children entered the rear door of our bus, choose their gift, then exited the front door. It was a simple, orderly and happy occasion. In a matter of hours the bus would leave for a refill.

Hortensia and I drove over several hills to the Acosta home. Mom, dad and five children live in this small one-room building. Happy kids received the presents they had waited so long for (along with a pair of shoes for each). Their house has one door, no windows, and candles for light at night. Father was working and would be home later that night.

We said our goodbyes and headed toward the city to see Josue and his family. Josue, you might remember, is the little boy that was burned so badly—over 50% of his body is scarred—no hair, no ears, just three fingers and it's hard to make his mouth smile. He, his two sisters and two brothers were waiting for us at the end of a narrow dirt road. He did his best to smile and hug me. Josue is about eleven years old now and is teased terribly at school. It was nice to bring a little love into his life that afternoon. After a time we got back into my SUV and waved goodbye. Josue waving with his few fingers and a smile in his heart.

I dropped Hortensia off and headed down along the Tijuana River to the CMI facility (the children's jail) where our crew were preparing a big tamale-beans-and rice dinner for the three hundred kids. Christmas Eve is a particularly cold and lonely time at the CMI. The comandante and guards give us a lot of liberty on this special night. Meal time is divided into groups of 100 - 150 kids. The boys quietly filed into the cement-and-steel dining hall with their hands clasp behind their back. Our crew served all and after prayer Paul played his guitar and sang. As the boys left their long tables and filed out many said, “Gracias” and “Feliz Navidad". Several hugged me.

The twenty girls in their jump-suits were last to eat. As they quietly filed past me, I noticed one girl who looked about thirteen—she was about six months pregnant. When Paul started singing, they also started singing and clapping their hands. Boy, they were into it! So much so that they had to be told to quiet down and eat. As usual, several girls were overwhelmed and began crying. Our staff moved in and sat next to them to ease the pain of a cold lonely Christmas. It was dark and cold as we left the CMI that night.

Threading our way across the city, we wove between old cars, trucks, taxies and buses, heading to another new community. This barrio is called “Invasion”. It's just a long canyon of little blue-tarp shacks set into the steep hillsides; no roads, just dirt trails and tire stairways. About one-hundred-twenty kids and adults were waiting for us—just standing in the total dark (many without jackets). Our cars parked and with their lights pointed at the bus, we pulled out our little generator and, PRESTO!, more light—an hour later illuminating smiling kids, each tightly holding their one gift.

It was a great Christmas Eve. Again thanks to you for providing it.

Julian, one of our boys, took some great photos that show the impact of our afternoon and evening of ministry.

Von, for all of us serving here in Tijuana.