I'm not sure what it is about me that doesn't like to get ripped off.  If I think someone is charging me more for something because I am an American I will find myself arguing over a few dollars, when clearly the person is in need.  I don't like this about myself.  I wish I was more like a wise missionary friend who once told me that he always errs on being too generous because he knows one day God will hold him accountable for the times he payed too little, not too much. 

The other day a lady showed up at our house, she said she had been asking for help and no one would help her.  She claimed her daughter had Hemorrhagic Dengue, a rare but lethal form of Dengue.  Her daughter needed to be transferred from one hospital to another and she needed $30 Reais (US$20).  She told us she had just moved to the Manaus, knew no one, and looked about 8 1/2 months pregnant.  We prayed with her and gave her the money.

About 3 days later she returned to our house.  Through tears, she told us how her daughter had died that morning.  She needed money to take the body to another city where her family lived.  We were crushed.  My mind races as I thought about how we needed to not only help her financially but emotionally.  She needed a family here, we told her.  We offered to call a pastor that could give her that support and  help her with arrangements.  Soon it became clear all she wanted was the money.  She only had a couple hours to come up with the money or the hospital would bury the body in a local cemetery (they don't embalm here so the burial usually takes place soon after death).  We decided to involve a neighbor who we trust.  The neighbor was very suspicious of the story.  We needed to make a decision, and soon.  Do we trust her and give her the money, or assume she was lying and not help?

My thoughts went to my friend who had encouraged me to always be generous.  The amount was only about $60 dollars.  As we tried to corroborate her story it seemed to have more and more holes, but I couldn't know for sure.  I finally gave her the money and sent her on her way, struggling with my mixed emotions. 

Later that night Brin said she hoped she was lying.  In that moment I realized I was more concerned about my money than whether or not she had lost her daughter.  I know we did the right thing in giving her the money.  I wish I could say my heart was right, but in reality I was more concerned about getting taken advantage of.  I really do hope she did not lose her daughter, and either way she needed the money more than me.  I'm not sure if being a Christ-follower means we have to be a doormat, but I know I need to hold on much less tightly to the things that I think are rightfully mine.

On a lighter note, here's a few pictures from the last couple of weeks...

I've been enjoying my first two weeks of working at the hangar.  Here Marcio, a pilot (far right), prepares to take a Brazilian missionary couple (purple and green shirts) to an Indian village where they have been living for two years.

Our friend Chelsea visited last week from Altamira (yellow shirt) and Brin took the everyone on a field trip to the local zoo.  Milena, a neighbor girl that the girls have befriended, acted as a guide.

Brin and Chelsea contemplating the excruciating pain inflicted by the candiru fish that swims "upstream", lodging itself with barbs, when an unfortunate person relieves themselves while swimming in the Amazon.

 

 

 

 

On the way home from the zoo the group gets caught in one of the many rain storms that we've experienced almost daily since arriving in Manaus.

 

Visiting a city park during Chelsea's visit. 

Mia riding her scooter in the park.