Some Reflections on the Work in Honduras
Twenty years ago on February 7, 2000, a teary-eyed group was gathered in Florida around a big yellow school bus. The time had come for the Philip Ebersole family to leave for Honduras, and the church family had come to see them off. I—the oldest son of the family—still remember quite distinctly the mixture of emotion I felt. On the one hand, I was very sad to leave so much behind. No longer would I be able to go next door every Thursday evening to play chess with my Grandmother. I would be leaving behind the times of singing with a men’s group.