What has been a significant experience in your life and what have you taken from it?
What has been a significant experience in your life and what have you taken from it?Surrounded by thousands of stars, complete silence, and spectacular mountains, I stood atop a village in Thailand fifteen miles south of the Burmese border awestruck by nature's beauty and power. Immediately, I realized that there was more to life than knowledge and understanding. The world isn't to be taken granted, and I don't plan to sit on the sidelines as the world passes me by.
Ministry to Burmese refugees was on the venue, and I'll gladly admit that I had more things on my mind than little children who don't speak English. Although the initial five hour drive to Mae Sot didn't offer fantastic views, the vistas became spectacular once my peers and I arrived in solid fashion. As I exited the vehicle, which I'd been sleeping in for three hours, I allowed my groggy legs to carry me to the top of the bamboo stairs where I paused sluggishly to rub my eyes and stretch. As they opened, my eyes fell curiously onto several pairs of eyes gazing back at me. Much to my amusement, I was intrigued by these young boys and girls' astonishment of a pink skinned individual like myself.
The ministry trip turned into a success, and my favourite activity came the night of our arrival. By now I had already gotten to know some of these young Burmese boys, whose stories were more miraculous than those I'd ever heard before. While their age ranged from my own to as little as six, I connected with them in one way or another. As the day met the night, we settled the two hundred students into a recreational room where we threw up a white sheet and mounted a projector. Mr. Bean, in all my eighteen years of viewing experience, has not failed once. Their eyes were glued to that of Rowan Atkinson, and their jaws dropped to the floor; the diversion was working splendidly.
Our purpose for this Mae Sot trip was to light up the darkness. While the children were glued to their seats, my group leaders and I
Ministry to Burmese refugees was on the venue, and I'll gladly admit that I had more things on my mind than little children who don't speak English. Although the initial five hour drive to Mae Sot didn't offer fantastic views, the vistas became spectacular once my peers and I arrived in solid fashion. As I exited the vehicle, which I'd been sleeping in for three hours, I allowed my groggy legs to carry me to the top of the bamboo stairs where I paused sluggishly to rub my eyes and stretch. As they opened, my eyes fell curiously onto several pairs of eyes gazing back at me. Much to my amusement, I was intrigued by these young boys and girls' astonishment of a pink skinned individual like myself.
The ministry trip turned into a success, and my favourite activity came the night of our arrival. By now I had already gotten to know some of these young Burmese boys, whose stories were more miraculous than those I'd ever heard before. While their age ranged from my own to as little as six, I connected with them in one way or another. As the day met the night, we settled the two hundred students into a recreational room where we threw up a white sheet and mounted a projector. Mr. Bean, in all my eighteen years of viewing experience, has not failed once. Their eyes were glued to that of Rowan Atkinson, and their jaws dropped to the floor; the diversion was working splendidly.
Our purpose for this Mae Sot trip was to light up the darkness. While the children were glued to their seats, my group leaders and I