Little Paloma was the runt and very last of nine puppies to be born in the corner of the little bamboo hut on the remote beach on Mexico´s Gulf Coast.  Two days later, I saw that the tiny puppy´s nostrils were covered in mucous and she was barely breathing. Imelda, her owner, shrugged her shoulders. Death is an everyday part of her world. She and her family love their animals, and care for them as best they can. But Imelda lost a child due to poverty and helplessness, so what can she possibly do for a dying little puppy?

But I couldn’t let it go. I´m a Christian missionary on this barrier island, and though our purpose and our mission is to reach the people in this place with the Good News of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Paloma only needed a tiny boost . So we brought in some antibiotic drops from town and she lived. Before we knew it, nine puppies were running all over the place, growing, tumbling over each other and learning how to interact with the animals and people around them.

It never ceases to amaze me when I see all the species interact together as if they belong to a long lost Paradise. The family dad, Pablo,earns a living by climbing palm trees; using nothing but a soft rope circling his bare feet, he shimmys up the tall trunk and brings the coconuts down. He opens them up with a machete, and we enjoy a fresh drink of a perfectly balanced combination of salts and sugars, one of God’s most nutritious readymade drinks. When we are done, he opens the coconut up, and everyone tucks into the meat, and I mean everyone. The chickens, the parrot, the dogs, the turkeys, the puppies, even the cat! And of course, us humans.

But life is tough at the beach. People have to work hard to eek a living out of the formidable and sometimes hostile ocean. Nothing is easy. No roads, and very few vehicles. Some families may have a motorcycle, but most don´t and either walk, hitch a ride or boat down the canal to the mainland fishing dock. Children can walk for an hour and a half each way to get to and from school. When the north winds bring the waves up to the pine trees, these children are in danger of being whisked away by a sudden surge of water, as they struggle to get back home. Heat and mosquitoes oppress everyone most of the year. Only on weekends does a public bus make its way along the beach itself to collect the fishermen and peasants, giving them an opportunity to go into town. It´s a tough life, but a marvelously alive one that we have been privileged to participate in.

We seem out of place, two single middle aged female missionaries on a lone island, working to develop a Christian camp. Our lives are totally unpredictable. We can be going to pray with someone who is sick one minute, and loading up cement to take to the camp the next, and then going to pick up the teacher who needs a ride into the school in our dilapidated pickup truck the following. We have two sets of people in mind at our camp: the city kids who have never seen the ocean, and need an opportunity to be in touch with Paradise, and the local people who need to have the opportunity to be in touch with civilization. But really, their needs are far deeper than that, and one and the same, they need to know Jesus Christ and find hope to face their lives. This is what we do, and we love it. We are here for the people.

But if a little puppy can be helped while we’re at it, why not? So last August, when Anne from Pennsylvania asked if we would be willing to take the scrawny little white puppy with the pale blue eyes to the States with us later, we agreed. So, in November, we packed the petrified drooling Paloma, into the back of our car, then into an airplane, and took her a world away to Pennsylvania, to be a part of Anne´s family. So Paloma plays in the snow now rather than the sand. She is a reminder to their family that there is an island on the Gulf Coast of Mexico that may seem very different on the outside, but is really made up of people like themselves who long to love and be loved.

–Diana, Missionary to Tuxpan, Mexico