Hasta la Vista, Chica

As the sun rose over a Southwest Shreveport church this morning, my daughter was among three dozen or so missionaries loading supplies into a trailer soon to be headed for Mexico. The group, equally divided among adults and teens, is bound for the border town of Acuna where they expect to join others like them to build houses for impoverished residents.
Interestingly, we have been advised there is only one romantically involved pair on the trip.

You guessed it: Happy Couple II. This works out well for them. Their many travels have kept them apart most of the summer. This also works out for two sets of concerned parents because HC II should be well chaperoned by many devout Southern Baptists.
We're not so naive to think that Young Love can't find a way to evade the glaring gaze of the warily watchful, but we're as good as we can get given the cicumstances. They are certain to be sweltering in the Mexican heat doing manual labor for a week. Plus, from what we've been told to expect, there won't be a lot of comfort at the facilities where they will be housed. She would seem to be well prepared for the Spartan accommodations, having recently returned from a weeklong wilderness outing where snow was used on occasion to perform the function typically reserved for soft tissues dispensed from cardboard rolls. On the other hand (Wow, careful with that expression in this context), she might struggle with the climate. A week ago, she was trudging around in snow and ice. This week, she will be toiling in triple-digit misery.
This is the last scheduled event in her self-titled "summer of service," during which she has also worked cleaning cabins at a church camp, among other activities. Remarkably, she passed up a chance to spend a week with friends in a beachside condominium to go on this mission trip. Now, she just needs to get home safely and catch up on her rest.

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