in the shade of a Brazilian pepper tree.
I looked up, not quite sure how to respond. We were taking a break from the intense afternoon sun and were using the time to work our way through the Gospel of Mark. So far, Felipe was absorbing it like a sponge, asking questions I hadn’t wrestled with since my youth, when I’d argued theology with my father. I was pleased about the invitation. Honoured, even, but Felipe and his wife had so little. However, I knew he’d be offended if I declined. Despite their extreme poverty, I’d learned that hospitality and generosity came easy to the inhabitants of the favelas.
I smiled and replied, “We’d love to come. Thank you.” Apart from being the polite thing to do, a change of scenery would do us good. Other than to work, we’d barely been out of the confines of the camp since we’d arrived, and Felipe and I had formed a friendship of sorts. It would be nice to spend some time with him and his wife.
“Splendid.” Felipe’s wide smile revealed pearly white teeth. “Come tomorrow. Saturday.”
We settled on that, and I offered to bring something to contribute to the meal, but Felipe proudly declined. “Now we are both working, we do a little better. We have enough food, and Maria is an amazing cook. It will be our honour to have you eat at our table.”
I smiled, knowing better than to press the point, although I still felt guilty. As though sensing my thoughts, he added, “I want to thank you, Hayden, for training me and reading the Bible with me. You are a good man.”
Humbled, I smiled and said, “It’s been my pleasure.” I was used to a working culture of macho men who ribbed each other about women and barbecues and the surf, and the typical back-slapping camaraderie of a building site. Although I often felt out of place, I was at least used to it. The rhythm of my days was so different in Brazil that even if the work was physically similar, nothing else was the same at all. I loved Australia and never had any desire to live anywhere else, yet something about Brazil was getting under my skin and I could almost see my family living here.
I was enjoying discussing the Gospel with Felipe, too, a great deal more than I had anticipated. In fact, most days I couldn’t wait for building to finish and our study time to begin. It was impossible not to wonder if this wasn’t the sign I had asked for, but for some reason I avoided examining that possibility too closely.
Penny was excited about the invitation. The next day, thinking it would be an adventure, she and I set out for the favela on foot. When the dusty road seemed never-ending and we wondered if we’d ever make it, we began to regret declining David’s offer to drive us.
Penny’s arm was linked through mine, and despite the heat, she still looked fresh and gorgeous. Her tan had deepened and brought out the ocean blue of her eyes. She was as beautiful as the day I first met her. Here, a million miles from home and our normal daily life, and of course the children, I was acutely aware that I should never take my blessings for granted. I smiled at her. “How about we go on a date tomorrow night?”
“A date?” She looked up, her eyes bright.
I nodded. “Yes, a date.”
“That sounds great, hon. Apart from the camp, all I’ve seen so far of Brazil is the inside of the police station and the local court room. And this road.” She pulled a face that made her look both cute and adorable and I spontaneously kissed the tip of her nose.
“We could skip the communal dinner tomorrow night and go into Curitiba central instead. Find a nice restaurant somewhere.” We were here on a mission trip, not a holiday, but one evening to enjoy being husband and wife in such a beautiful country seemed a fair trade to me.
She smiled and leaned in closer. “That sounds perfect. I’ll look forward to it.”
After walking for what seemed a very long forty minutes and getting lost twice, just when we thought we’d never get there, we finally reached the favela. Felipe had told me his home was on the edge of the huge complex and was easy to find. Scanning the ramshackle houses that spread before us like a never-ending sea of tin, I