4:15 happened to be the time I begrudgingly woke up this morning. Blinking a few times to really make sure my watch was correct, I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the bunk above me. Not expecting it to make too much of a difference, I didn’t turn on my miniature battery-operated fan the night before, so I woke up sweaty and miserable. Apparently, the Honduran heat began just as early as the sunrise, which just happened to be around 5 a.m. every day. It may have been the sixth day of an eleven day mission trip, but new jobs and long hours each day led to a complicated circadian cycle. I would have loudly groaned and questioned why I couldn’t have slept at least another hour; however, I remain silent so that I wouldn’t wake up the six other sleeping girls in bunks around the room.
Kicking off my sheets, I slowly sit up, swivel around and place my bare feet on the cool tile flooring. There’s a larger fan spewing wind across the room in the corner by our makeshift door, and its annoying buzz covered the sound of me grabbing my toiletries and quietly tiptoeing across the chilly floor. The folding door squeaked when I slightly moved it over, immediately causing me …show more content…
The struggles of not waking up any other girls in my room led to their liking and respecting me more as I gave them the opportunity to start their days off with more rest. The Honduran coffee started my love for coffee, and led me to bring home four pounds of it for the continued enjoyment by me and my coffee-addict mother. Every morning spent with the three boys brought us closer and helped make them bond more quickly with me than with the other girls. Although the most memorable moments from my Honduran mission trip this summer were not made during the quiet hours of each morning, the consistency of peace in those few minutes every day always prepared me for what the new day would
Kicking off my sheets, I slowly sit up, swivel around and place my bare feet on the cool tile flooring. There’s a larger fan spewing wind across the room in the corner by our makeshift door, and its annoying buzz covered the sound of me grabbing my toiletries and quietly tiptoeing across the chilly floor. The folding door squeaked when I slightly moved it over, immediately causing me …show more content…
The struggles of not waking up any other girls in my room led to their liking and respecting me more as I gave them the opportunity to start their days off with more rest. The Honduran coffee started my love for coffee, and led me to bring home four pounds of it for the continued enjoyment by me and my coffee-addict mother. Every morning spent with the three boys brought us closer and helped make them bond more quickly with me than with the other girls. Although the most memorable moments from my Honduran mission trip this summer were not made during the quiet hours of each morning, the consistency of peace in those few minutes every day always prepared me for what the new day would