I was busy cleaning the dining room when I heard a shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone was at the front gate. I looked up from my mopping and glanced out a window that provided me with the perfect vantage point to see the front gate. A dark-skinned woman, that I didn’t recognize, was waiting at the front gate. I looked around to see if anyone else was going to answer the door; it didn’t appear so. I was totally willing to run and open the gate, but I wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say if the woman started speaking Spanish rapidly. I understand a fare amount of Spanish, but if the woman started speaking quickly, I would have no idea what she needed. I waited a few more minutes to see if someone else was going to open the gate, but no one else was moving so I put down my mop and headed toward the front gate. I bound down the front steps and greeted the woman in my best Spanish accent. I said, “good afternoon Señora, how are you?” Pointing and looking up at the huge sign in front of our house, with eyes full of desperation, the Señora asked, “what is YWAM (Youth with a Mission) and do you help young people?” Amazingly, Spanish words flowed freely from my mouth and I explained that YWAM consists of a group of young people and leaders that want to make a difference in the world, we help wherever we can, and we want all people to know there is hope in this dark world and that hope is found in Jesus Christ alone. 
Fast forward 2 months. It is Saturday morning and I am thankful for a break from the rigorous class lecture schedule that we hold Monday- Friday. It is washing day and I am really looking forward to having some clean clothing and bed linen. From my bedroom on the second floor, I hear the shrill buzz…buzz… signaling someone is at the front gate. A few minutes later I hear little kids chattering and giggling… my friends have arrived! I grab my bag of dirty laundry and make my way downstairs to greet the Señora, like I have been doing every Saturday for the past 2 months. Before I finish saying hello to the Señora, I am tackled by two of my favorite people in Bolivia, the Señora’s children. I hand my bag of soiled laundry over to the Señora, who is more than eager to wash my clothing, she has looked for other work, but is struggling to find a job, and she depends on the income she earns from washing my clothes weekly to buy food for her family. We count this week’s worth of my stinky laundry and the Señora announces I need to pay 15 Bolivanos (about $2 USD). I thank the Señora and talk to her while she begins washing my clothing by hand. I learn that she didn’t eat breakfast because she didn’t have even enough food for her kids to eat. I see in the Señora’s face that she is exhausted and not well. I tell her to take a weekend off. I joke that although I am white, I do know how to wash my own clothing. The Señora smiles for a second, but then tears start running down her face. The Señora explains that she won’t be able to feed her children or buy propane if she doesn’t work. Although I rarely encourage free handouts, I love the Señora. She has become my friend and she works so hard, so I offer to give her the money she would have earned for cleaning my clothes and I give her permission to go home and rest. Mustering more strength than I have ever had when I am sick, the Señora declines my offer and insists that she WILL work for her pay. I try to convince the Señora, to rest, lest she becomes even more ill, but there is no changing her mind. I give up the fight and excuse myself as she continues to scrub my clothing. I run into my house where I grab a glass of water and piece of my fruit from my secret supply and I return to the Señora’s side by the washing sink. I put my humble offerings in front of the Señora and I walk away. A few seconds later, I glance over my shoulder and I am content to see the Señora is sipping the water I left for her.
As I walk back toward my house, I review my to-do-list in my head, “I need to finish reading a book, complete a book-report, and create a presentation. I would like to go to the store to buy fruit and milk for the coming week. And I sure would love to have some time to email my friends and family or write a blog or two… so much to do and so little time!” I am almost to the door of my house when I hear my little friends running up behind me. Without hesitation, I decide my homework can wait a few minutes and I dash across the yard chasing my little cappuccino friends. We kick the soccer ball around, I pick my friends up and throw them in the air, we give piggy-back rides, and I tickle them to death, loving the sound of their giggles.
After about 30 minutes of running around, I reluctantly go back inside to do my homework. As I study, I hear laughter echoing in the yard outside my window. My heart is filled with joy. I pray, “God may that laughter continue… may you strengthen the Señora’s family, may the laughter of her children encourage her heart, bless her Lord… bless the Señora that washes my clothes. 