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I have to admit how lovely it was to be in the air-conditioned airport in Tegucigalpa, to see clear water in the toilets, and have choices of hot and cold coffee for purchase as well as a few more souvenirs. I am not claiming to be proud of these attachments, but I must be honest: They are there no doubt.

While at the airport, I spoke with a priest who was on his way to the states, as well as a rambunctious church group from Tennessee. They had been in some village for a week to do DVBS. (Daily Vacation Bible School.) They were super loud and obnoxious I thought. The guys were playing catch above seated people's heads. I couldn't help but wonder if they were acting a bit entitled. Maybe any group that age would act like that, but it bugged me. : /

Meanwhile, a teen-aged Honduran girl walked into the waiting area and she was crying. The women in the large group approached her and I eavesdropped. This young woman was about to fly for her first to meet her father in the states, who she had never met. The group took good care of her and was able to speak some Spanish with her. They held her hand immediately; Latin American style. She seemed to feel better.

I loved the line at customs in Atlanta. It was long and ever so diverse. My nose was busy trying to indentify regions of the world based on the cocktail of scents present in that crowded line!
I admitted this to the woman next to me who laughed because she was doing it too and she was from Tegucigalpa.

Betsy and Dan were there at 11:30 PM to pick me up. It was such a sweet reunion. We filled the car with stories and I couldn't believe how huge the perennials had gotten in three weeks in our yard. I walked in the front door to fresh flowers, many lit candles and the words: Home Together Love.