Before the church service in Sabaneta on Tuesday afternoon, a few of us wandered a little further up the dirt road to a beautiful lookout over the valley. As we were taking pictures of the view, a very elderly gentleman carefully made his way down the hill behind us and was resting at the base of a huge tree. He was wearing a blue shirt, blue trousers, and a dirty hat he probably wore most of the day.
A couple of us walked over to say hello and the man started speaking to us in Spanish. Since none of us in the group that wandered up the hill spoke fluent Spanish, we tried to tell him that we did not understand, but he kept talking and talking. Since he did not seem to mind that we could not understand, we did not try to stop him and just smiled and listened.
Brad Brazell (a fellow team member from Harvest Baptist) and I tried to pick out a few of the words we could recognize as he continued to speak. Confirmed by the tears in the elderly man’s eyes and his hand gestures toward Heaven, we had a pretty good idea that he was talking about God and Salvation.
(click the images for slideshow view)
The man carried a cane and as he pointed to his legs, we were able to make out that he was either injured or just not as young as he used to be – we later found out from a Spanish speaking member of our group that he was 86 years old and has been a Christian for over 20 years.
The man also carried a large plastic bag with him that contained his Bible, a pair of reading glasses with only one lens, and what appeared to be a piece of blue cloth. I asked to look at his Bible and thumbed through the worn, well-read pages over to John 3:16. As soon as I showed him the verse I had looked up, he started weeping again, pointing toward Heaven, and talking again of “Jesús Cristo mi Salvador” or Jesus Christ my Savior. By this point, after being witness to the passion and love this elderly man had for Christ, several of us were wiping the tears from our own eyes - despite the language barrier.
The man went with us slowly back down the hill for the church service and it was then that we realized the blue cloth in his bag was actually his “church” hat. Before entering the church, he replaced his dirty work hat with this round blue hat from his bag. The way it was stitched reminded me of an old military side cap or garrison cap, but the material was soft, very worn, and had lost its original shape. I’m not certain of this, but I can only imagine that this carefully protected hat was his way of showing reverence when entering God’s house.
I’m sure he doesn’t have a Sunday suit and tie set aside for church like many of us do in the states, but just by removing his dirty work hat and replacing it with this round blue hat he is showing reverence to his “Salvador” that he loved so dearly.
If I could see this man again, I would thank him for his impact on those of us that had the fortune of walking a little further up the hill that day in Sabaneta and the impression his sweet spirit made on me.
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