Thank you for your care and concern over the last week, as we struggle through our grief at the loss of a friend. I am without words.

Times in Lapa have been memorable recently. On Wednesday, there were so many drugs around, such a spirit of despair in the cold and drizzling rain. I just couldn't take it. I was sitting on a pair of shoes, holding my godson as he slept among the smoke and shouting and bright street lights. And I started to sing: lullabies, hymns, praise songs. Pretty soon, there were two heads plopped down on my lap, and their drugs disappeared. I sang them to sleep. It was fun. It was beautiful.

Yesterday, there were no drugs to sell, so they were waving off the occasional prospective customer. Junior asked me a question about that, and I remarked that they had no "maconha." Silvano thought it was hilarious that I knew the Portuguese word for weed and began teasing me. "We're not selling that stuff!" exclaimed Anderson, attempting an innocent face. I retorted, "Well, maybe you're not selling it right now, but you were certainly using enough of it last night! Why do you think I sang everyone to sleep? It was so I could breathe!"

I'm having a better time conversing with them...several of the kids want to come to church after Junior invited them last night. I hope they come...