The Preacher's Son - Juliette Duncan Page 0,36
relief as David said sincerely, “This is your home now, Leon.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I said.
Leon smiled, although his face was so swollen it was more of a grimace. “I will finish school and become a lawyer, like you, so I can fight for my people. You have inspired me, Penny.”
I grabbed his hand, no longer caring that the tears were rolling freely down my cheeks. “No, Leon, you’ve inspired me.”
He would never know just how much.
Hayden
The next Sunday came, our last full day at Camp Bano, as we were scheduled to fly home the next morning. As Penny and I got ready for the Sunday service, our things were already half packed, and soon the little cabin that had been our home for the last three weeks would be occupied by another couple.
Such mixed feelings filled me that I was struggling to name them. I was longing to see Rosie and Elijah after so long away from them, so I was desperate to get home for that reason alone. But other than that, well, the truth was that I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay and watch Felipe move into his new house with Maria. I wanted to be here to attend their baptism ceremony. I knew that Penny would want to watch Leon’s progress.
After a couple of days of rest to recover from his injuries, Leon had thrown himself into camp life with an enthusiasm that had been lacking before. It seemed he had broken free of any lasting hold over him that the gang had attempted to exploit. I had complete faith that the boy would grow up to do amazing things and achieve his dream of being a lawyer like Penny. I was so proud of her, too, for the tireless work she’d put into her role here. She’d been on her own life-changing journey that was entwined with, but not the same as mine, reiterating for me how God always has a bigger plan, and our role is to simply keep taking the next step and trusting Him for the outcome.
“Are you ready?” I asked. I wasn’t only referring to her being physically ready to leave for the service. David and Julia had asked Penny to give a testimony about the changes this missionary trip had brought about, and I knew she was nervous.
“Sort of,” she responded, her mouth twisting as she slipped a pin into her hair. “I know it’s an honour to be chosen out of this cohort of volunteers to give my testimony, but I can’t believe how nervous I feel. I’m used to speaking in court rooms, but speaking in church is way different.”
Stepping towards her, I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You’re used to speaking about other people, not yourself, or God, but you’ll be fine.”
She nodded and drew a slow breath. “I hope so,” she said softly.
We walked to the chapel arm in arm and settled on one of the small wooden benches near the front. The service was largely devoted to thanking the volunteers who were about to go home. As I reflected on our experiences and how Camp Bano had taught us both so much, a cord tightened around my heart. I’d never expected that this short visit would have affected me so much. When Penny stood and walked the few steps to the front to give her testimony, she looked as vulnerable as I had ever seen her, but my heart swelled with pride.
“I was anxious about coming here,” she began in a soft voice. “I had no idea what to expect, and I had this idea of a missionary in my head that just wasn’t me. But discovering that my skills could be of use here helped me make up my mind to come, although in the end I still needed a push from God.” She recounted the story of the woman in the graveyard, eliciting awed gasps from the audience. “And so we came, and I’ve learned so much. About Brazil, about the world, about faith. All of those things, but most of all, I’ve learned about myself. I thought I had life all mapped out. I knew what I was good at and where I thought I was meant to be. But God had other plans. Just like Jesus calling the disciples, or John heading out into the wilderness, I learned that sometimes our only option is to step out in faith, and I’m