Article December 13, 1999 Issue

Homesick in Mexico

Angels make me feel at home.

By Pamela Guthman

Here It Was, the first of many jobs that I hoped would pay me to travel to wonderful places. And here I was, coming into the beautiful Mexican city of Guanajuato as dusk was settling in. Lights began to twinkle, the colors in the sky looked like a painting, and the weather was perfect—a total contrast to the snow and cold I'd left at home in the United States earlier that day.

But I wasn't feeling thrilled. Unaccustomed to traveling on my own and unable to communicate in my very rusty Spanish, I felt isolated, alone, and inadequate. As I settled into my hotel room and reviewed my itinerary for the coming week, I wished I were back home. It was the Christmas season. I thought of the joy of decorating my own village and home, of the comfort of friends and family, of the beauty of fresh snow. Instead, I was alone in a distant land with no sign of Christmas anywhere.

In the midst of this longing, a thought came to me like a burst of light: "God is here!" It seemed logical, then, that since He was with me, the fullness of His love and provision of good must be as present in this room in the hills of Mexico as in my home thousands of miles away.

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