Mission Trip in Rio de Janeiro Essay -- Observation Essay, Descriptive

representation Trip in Rio de Janeiro The second I walked in the door, I knew it was polar than any other place I had visited that week. in that respect was a presence of love and happiness hovering in the air. I could feel it it was so strong. I didnt want to leave that beautiful place c on the wholeed Compassion external. In July 2000, I went to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil for a mission trip. One of the days, we visited the kids of Compassion International. Compassion International is a program in which slew from the U.S. can send money, letter and other gifts to underprivileged children in different countries. The place I visited was a school/church where the kids went if they were the ones receiving the sponsorship. This was the best place I visited the whole term I was in Brazil. We did so many awesome things during our trip, solely this nice three or four hour visit changed my entire life. Children of all ages were walking around when we took our tour of the facilities. So me of these kids came from neighborhoods that had gun shootings, drugs and other violence. another(prenominal) kids didnt even come from a neighborhood. They were homeless, lived in the dump and didnt know when their adjoining meal would be coming or from where. When I looked at these kids, I couldnt see their home life reflected in their clothing or faces. They were puff up dressed, clean, and most of all, they had smiles on their faces. The tour of the facility was remarkable. It was huge considering how poor the province is. They had numerous classrooms where the children would learn reading, writing, and arithmetic and study the Bible. A playground for the small-scale children and a small pool for the older ones were available in the courtyard. There was even an American flag ... .... Her unbreakable smile and the sparkle in her eyes told of the Savior she had. Some of the songs she led were familiar, but some werent. The imperturbable thing was, they were all in Portugu ese, and we didnt care We sang along in English while they sang in Portuguese. The language barrier we had didnt matter. We had the very(prenominal) God, and He made all the difference. After a couple hours in the chapel, we ran out of time at Compassion International. I didnt get to call on the carpet to any of the Brazilians there except the little ones when they gathered around us, but I still cried when we left. I felt so close to these people despite the culture differences. As I walked out the door, I cognise the presence I felt when I walked in wasnt just a feeling of love and happiness, but the Holy Spirit, who brought me to Compassion International for an arrive I will never forget