Puerto Rican Sunday

Dear Friends,

It's always amazing to share in fellowship on Sundays...

But here it feels even more like a miracle.

This is the home where we met.

Everything is juicy and Verde (green).

I can hardly take a step without stopping to take in a breath of soaking wet air mixed with the smell of flowers. The view from each point of our journey is so different from home and we feel lucky to take it all in. The "usual" here is all the more lovely for being different from what we're used to.

 But the miracle is the things that are the same here.

The spirit of unity in our gathering.

The smiles and understanding looks.

The fact that - while I can understand very few of the [Spanish] words - I feel the presence of God and Him speaking to my heart.

 The miracle is instantly loving these people because they are God's people. They hug me tight and give the perfunctory Puerto Rican kiss on the cheek. They don't know me but we know the same God and that makes us family.

The miracle is love.

They shared a feast with us. A fish and rice soup so good the thought of it makes my mouth water even now.

Many varieties of fruit here are new to us and an adventure in each taste.

Mamey

Carambola (star fruit)

Agua de coco (not my favorite, rather bitter, but I DID try it)

Also, Acerolas (like a sour cherry with three big seeds in the middle), Mango (included because it is so much better here it's almost something different than what we have had at home), and Tamarindo (super sour with a prune-ish taste).

Ohhhhh! And the dessert! Ohhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhh!

Have you eaten flan?

If so, you understand.

If not, you poor, poor thing!

--- Okay, that was my gut talking... back to normal programming here, folks!

After lunch, we walked off a few of the calories [the flan].

The green here is everywhere. We see nothing dry and brown except maybe a few beach-bums who've seen too much sun. Even the power-lines have sprouted!

And there are the flowers!

And the children who are like flowers.

This girl, my girl... she is the sweetest flower to me.

I am so glad we were able to manage this trip while the turkeys were in this 'easily amazed and enchanted' stage.

And is there anything sweeter than the way they make friends at this age?

Grandpa is quietly enjoying this trip too. He is pointing everything out to the kids and they are dragging him along to show him their own discoveries.

Sunday was a day for simple pleasures...

Tunnels to drive through and... Honk. Honk. Honk.

An old abandoned lighthouse.

Peeking in the windows.

Enjoying the view of the sand and the sea.

Enjoying eachother.

Climbing on the rocks.

And our first taste of ocean water on this trip.

The wind sent our skirts swirling around our legs and our hair brushed our sun kissed cheeks asking to be let down...

The babies promised to dip only their toes... But then the water begs them to come in and play. The child wiggles a little closer, just a bit deeper. The waves beckon and call, the child answers with a timid approaching step. And in this way they participate in the ancient dance all children seem to know. Soon the sand and water are locked in an unbreakable embrace around their toes, feet, legs and [of course]  their Sunday clothes.

The mothers sigh, give each other knowing looks and search their bags for something that can pass as dry clothes. They vow to never again be without the proper beach gear because that, my friends, is their role in this ageless ritual.

We play all our parts.

The waves.

The sand.

The young.

The mothers.

And we are all happy (and freckled).

It is easy to be happy on a Sunday.

The Puerto Rico part is a bonus.

Love,

Having Flan-- Ahem-- FUN in Puerto Rico