The Preacher's Son - Juliette Duncan Page 0,11

me, I knew it was destined to be by this woman’s side. Squeezing her hand, I returned her smile.

“We’re actually doing it,” she whispered, as though she couldn’t quite believe it was real. “We’re going to Brazil.”

My smile broadened. “We certainly are.” But what would we find when we arrived?

Penny

A few hours after arriving in Curitiba, we followed David, the lead pastor at Safe Hands, as he gave an orientation tour of the facility. Having managed to get a good sleep on the plane, I felt alert and eager to get started, although the heat was oppressive. Being Australian, I was used to hot weather, but the climate here was different and the heat clung to me in a way I’d never felt back home. But from what I’d seen of Brazil so far, which wasn’t much, it was a beautiful country.

Of course, we hadn’t been near the favelas yet.

Safe Hands was on a large compound called Camp Bano on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by lush landscape on one side, and a dirt track that led to the favelas on the other. The city was ten kilometres up the main road, to the other side of the favela area. I was trying to orient myself in my surroundings, but the project itself was large and there was so much going on that it would take a while before I remembered where everything was.

David was a large Brazilian man with sun-darkened skin and dancing brown eyes, whereas his wife, Julia, was English and physically the complete opposite—small, dainty, and very fair, with quiet eyes and a serene smile. However, the pair seemed to complement each other perfectly.

“These are our classrooms,” he said, opening another door to a large, airy room with a few desks and a chalk board. “We’re low on resources, but we do the best we can. Your experience will be really useful,” he said, nodding to another woman who was also a volunteer, and whom I discovered was a teacher.

In the end, Hayden and I had been the only members from our church who’d come to Camp Bano, which had further confirmed for me that we were meant to hear that sermon. There were ten people who had made this trip, all hailing from various parts of Australia. One couple had brought teenage children with them, and I immediately wondered whether we could bring Elijah and Rosie when they were older...then I realised that we’d barely been here one afternoon and I was already planning a second trip.

Most of the other team members would be helping with the housing construction project. Only the teacher, whose name was Helen, and I were there to provide a different type of aid.

After the classrooms, David showed us the housing project. “So far we have built ten houses,” he said proudly, “and we’re hoping for five more. While you’re here, you’ll be helping to put the finishing touches to this house which will be rented by a couple we’re involved with called Maria and Felipe. Felipe is being trained in construction, so not only do they get affordable accommodation, but he is also learning a trade.

“Maria’s been helping out in the classroom and we’re trying to raise funds to send her for teacher training. Safe Hands is very much about enabling and empowering the locals so they can achieve a sustainable, positive change in their lives. Poverty is a trap, especially here, but with God's guidance and a strong community, we can achieve great things.” He paused, and then added proudly, “I grew up in the favelas, but I always knew I wanted to be a pastor for my people.” His eyes shone with emotion. I’d immediately liked David, and Julia too. There was a warmth that radiated from them and made everyone feel welcome.

“That's really interesting,” Hayden said. I could tell he was as impressed as I was about how David had fulfilled his goal. I also wondered how he and Julia had met.

We strolled back to the small cabins we were staying in and David announced that the bell would be rung for dinner in about an hour. After that would follow an evening service to welcome us all.

Entering our very small and basic cabin, I flopped onto the bed which appeared almost too narrow for both of us to be comfortable, at least compared to the queen-sized bed we had at home. “I think I need another shower. I feel so sticky,” I said, pulling at my