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It was 2006, and that journey took me to “El Jardin” (the Garden) a Tsotsil community in the mountains of Chiapas to share Christmas with Pastor Antonio as a missionary working with International Ministries. Alongside our brothers and sisters, we sang to Jesus. Wrapped up by the unhurried and rhythmic Mayan accent we talked and shared tamales and black coffee. Under the zinc roof and dirt floor of Antonio’s wooden shack house with only a table, several chairs and a hammock for furniture; there were no shopping malls, no “ajoro,” (rush), no gifts, no lights, no Christmas tree. There was only the traditional woodstove to warm us and the light of the Milky Way shining in the sky. That Christmas night was a different one! One where I end up in a different place as a human being.
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¡Próximamente!
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