By Melanie Kruse
I’ve never been on a mission trip like this. This was the first time we served with Forward Edge and the first time our two daughters had joined us, but that’s not what made it different. On this trip I didn’t cry.
My husband and I had both been on mission trips before with other organizations, often with many tears involved. As we boarded the plane for Oaxaca, Mexico, I anticipated feeling emotions similar to those I’d experienced on past trips.
The next morning was filled with joy as we finally met our sponsored children. One of the children, Kevin, immediately came running up to our family as soon as we entered the children’s program. He hugged me and I felt like my day was complete. His smile could be seen from across a room.
I watched on the first morning as Victor, the program director, shared from the Bible and led a discussion with the kids. At first it seemed ordinary, but slowly I noticed something different. Victor seemed to know each child by name. They listened closely and were captivated by him.
I thought perhaps they were just really obedient children, but I soon realized: Victor and his wife, Lety, had a personal relationship with each child. They were not merely children attending a program; they were dearly loved by Victor and Lety. They were seen. They were listened to. They were cared for. They mattered. They were important.
I found myself in the middle of the week remembering back to those trips with other organizations. I had cried so hard simply at the thought of saying goodbye to my sponsored child. I remember seeing children – living in an abandoned school bus or attending a community program – and feeling so much grief and sorrow. I felt broken.
And now I found myself not feeling these emotions. I wondered what was wrong. Why wasn’t I crying? Had I become less sensitive? Did I not love these children as much? Why wasn’t I heartbroken at the thought of saying goodbye? Had I become calloused over the years and didn’t care as much?
I shared my feelings with my husband and found he too was feeling the same way. As we dialogued about it, we realized something. What we were feeling wasn’t a calloused heart or a lack of love, but instead, it was peace. We had peace knowing these children were not going to be overlooked. They had Victor and Lety standing up for them.
On a previous mission trip, I felt I had to be the one to stand up for my sponsored child when he was being bullied. I was nervous for his future. But here at the Forward Edge children’s program in Mexico, that didn’t happen. They have grandparent-like figures who’ve known them for years. Victor and Lety have been a constant source of dependability for these children having led the program for 16 years.
So, as I said goodbye, I felt a little sad, but not because I was worried about the children or their future. I simply felt sad because I had loved my time and would miss them. I had such peace knowing they are being left in amazing hands and will continue to be noticed, stood up for, and personally checked in on.
What a joy to have this peace, knowing these children have the support they need for a beautiful future. To know they will be looked after and are not just a number in the system. To know that I get to have a small part in their lives as well.
I am very grateful that Victor and Lety have chosen to give their lives each and every day for these children and their families. The work they do is not merely a job but rather a lifestyle. It’s amazing the difference two people can make, and it astounds me how they have personal connections with each child.
My husband and I had our wish fulfilled as we went on this mission trip with our family. However, instead of tears and returning home feeling broken and worried, we had an incredible peace. We returned home with joy in our hearts. God had not only given us our desire to go and meet our sponsored children, but He’d given us a surprise: the surprise of seeing each child fully known, truly seen, and not forgotten.
Viola lives in the slums of Kampala, Uganda with her parents and five siblings. Living conditions in this area are cramped and unsanitary. Viola’s family lives in a small, brick, two-bedroom house. The whole family shares one room and the other one is used to house chickens and a goat that
What does it look like to follow Jesus in a culture where most of your community—and even your own family—follows a different faith? In Kosova, where Ramadan is a time of fasting and nightly celebration, young believers often feel the tension deeply.
This blog, written by our Kosova program directors Nora and Metush, shares the powerful story of Ymer—a boy learning to hold onto Jesus in the middle of cultural and spiritual pressure.
During these times when most of us are ‘social distancing’ and ‘sheltering in place’, we probably have much more time on our hands and yet are unable to be in touch with many of those on our minds. This is especially true of our sponsored children. We know they and
“Every Saturday, my heart was filled with joy,” says Elvin, reflecting on the love and care he found at Cornerstone Kosova. Growing up in the harsh realities of Kosova, Elvin once faced a life full of hardship. But through the community’s love and the teachings of Jesus, his life was transformed. Now 15, Elvin’s journey of hope continues, and he’s sharing that same love with others.
7 yrs. old
Entered the program: May 2025
David lives with his mother and two younger siblings in a rented one-room sheet metal house with electric lighting that is not reliable. They have an outdoor kitchen and use firewood for cooking. Water is drawn from a well which is boiled for drinking. The family shares a communal bathroom facility and pit latrine that is in good condition.
David’s mother is a single parent. She was forced to leave her husband who was threatening physical abuse to her and the children, and has substance abuse issues. David’s mother later had a motorcycle accident that left her with serious injuries to her arm and leg which prevent her from being able to work.
David’s little brother, Jayden, is also in the Mama Beth program.
