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Friday, February 1, 2019

Mission Trip in Rio de Janeiro Essay -- Observation Essay, Descriptive

Mission set off in Rio de Janeiro The second I walked in the door, I knew it was different than both(prenominal) new(prenominal) place I had visited that week. There was a heraldic bearing of fill in and happiness hovering in the air. I could feel it it was so strong. I didnt compulsion to leave that beautiful place called Compassion International. In July 2000, I went to Rio de Janeiro, brazil nut for a mission trip. One of the days, we visited the kids of Compassion International. Compassion International is a program in which people from the U.S. can send money, letters and other gifts to underprivileged children in different countries. The place I visited was a naturalize/church where the kids went if they were the ones receiving the sponsorship. This was the best place I visited the whole time I was in Brazil. We did so many awesome intimacys during our trip, but this small terzetto or four hour visit changed my entire life. Children of all ages were locomote aroun d when we took our tour of the facilities. Some of these kids came from neighborhoods that had gun shootings, drugs and other violence. Other kids didnt plane come from a neighborhood. They were homeless, lived in the dump and didnt know when their next meal would be coming or from where. When I looked at these kids, I couldnt visualize their home life reflected in their clothing or faces. They were well dressed, clean, and almost of all, they had smiles on their faces. The tour of the facility was remarkable. It was huge considering how poor the country is. They had legion(predicate) classrooms where the children would learn reading, writing, and arithmetic and study the Bible. A playground for the small children and a small pool for the older ones were available in the courtyard. There was thus far an American flag ... .... Her unbreakable smile and the sparkle in her eyeball told of the Savior she had. Some of the songs she led were familiar, but some werent. The cool th ing was, they were all in Portuguese, and we didnt care We sang along in face while they sang in Portuguese. The language barrier we had didnt matter. We had the same God, and He made all the difference. After a couple hours in the chapel, we ran discover of time at Compassion International. I didnt get to talk to any of the Brazilians there except the little ones when they gathered around us, but I still cried when we left. I felt so close to these people notwithstanding the culture differences. As I walked out the door, I realized the presence I felt when I walked in wasnt just a scent of love and happiness, but the Holy Spirit, who brought me to Compassion International for an experience I will never forget

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