Today we were heading to another location for a wheelchair distribution. Vicente had implied earlier that I probably wouldn’t be too busy, since only a few wheelchairs were being given out and I would mainly be seeing those patients who needed medical clearance.

Breakfast was a treat — caramel bread and bananas. Then we set off. When we arrived and set up, the heat was a welcome change after the cold days in the mountains. Once again, there was a small ceremony with local dignitaries who presented us with scarves.

I also got a new translator — a lovely physio who worked at the clinic and spoke both Spanish and Cheqwa. What a blessing to have someone medical translating, someone who understood both the patients and the programs.

And despite earlier expectations, I was incredibly busy. Usually the queues form first for the dentist Yeni and Fernanda in optometry, but not today — I was inundated. Patient after patient came with gastritis, back pain, and various aches, but there were also quite a few young women with more complex issues. I decided to skip lunch to keep things moving, switching translators so they could eat while I continued.

We wrapped up around 2:00 so Yeni and Fernanda could get to the airport. Saying goodbye was hard — they have become truly dear friends, and we will miss their joy, their kindness, and their huge hearts.

Afterward we went downtown for a special goodbye meal, and Pastor Edgar joined us. The food was delicious, and it felt like the perfect way to finish our clinic work for this trip.

Tomorrow we’ll have one last adventure before flying home on Saturday.

Reflection

Today felt like a full circle moment — the final clinic, the final patients, the final goodbyes. I was reminded how unpredictable mission work can be: expecting a quiet day and instead being met with a steady stream of people needing care, stories, and compassion.

And then there were the goodbyes — the bittersweet part of any mission. Yeni and Fernanda, with their laughter, their warmth, and their servant hearts, left a bigger imprint on us than they know. Their friendship has been one of the greatest blessings of this trip.

As the clinic doors closed for the last time, I felt both gratitude and a gentle sorrow. Gratitude for the privilege of serving, and sorrow that this chapter is already ending. But woven through it all was the same quiet truth that has carried us each day: God meets us in every place — in clinics, in friendships, in tears, in laughter, and even in the unexpected fullness of a “slow” day.