I have already forgotten her name, I think it was Irma, but it will be hard to forget her or the day I spent at the Corazon build with our St. A's team. We built a new home for Irma and her sister, who had been living with three other family members in a house about the size of our living room.

After a morning of fun (if you don't do it everyday), but fairly mundane work, like sawing, painting and building panels, we began the exciting process of putting up the walls. It was at this point that our efforts started to become apparent to all. It's an all hands on deck process that can only happen if everyone works together. About eight of us lifted the first wall up and then positioned it carefully over the caulk laid on the concrete slab. Then a couple guys with the really big hammers nailed it in place on the concrete. Eben Cook and I then held the wall up while another crew positioned the second wall in a similar manner. As I watched the proceedings, it struck me that we were participating in an old-fashioned barn raising. Like the pioneers, we were helping a neighbor build a house.

Everyone contributed in their own way and the youth group was particularly active. Jasmine Thompson, Zoe Billington and my daughter Julia became engrossed in building and tiling a kitchen counter, under the watchful eye of our new Associate Pastor, Laura Queen, who we discovered knows her way around a construction site. Michael Gordon and Seiji Takahashi painted up a storm-Seiji was covered in paint by the afternoon. Anthony Jondreau, Max Staley and Anne-Marie Coutts tiled the roof like old pros. There was plenty to do, so it was easy to find a niche.

Working hard toward a common goal creates a wonderful sense of camaraderie. Although I don't wish for the hard, uncertain life of the pioneers, I suspect they felt a much stronger sense of community and support than we feel today. It's a model we should keep in mind as we try to build a more cohesive community at St. As. I'm reminded of a line from a hymn that I found hysterical when I first saw it, "Arise ye Protestants to love and work." Maybe not such a bad prescription after all.

At the end of the day, we were beat and sore, but filled with a wonderful sense of pride with our creation. To be sure, it wasn't much of a house: tiny, no running water and covered in drab surplus tan and gray paint. It did have to be built in a day after all. But it was secure, with a water-tight roof and the sisters seemed very pleased. We had really accomplished something positive. In the closing ceremony, via expert translation by Melinda Gordon and Ivett Leyva, we learned that Irma not only works 12 hour nights in the factory, she also manages to go to classes during the day-and she does well in them. It seems impossible, given her situation, but she recently passed her medical school entrance exams. What a wonderful, hopeful revelation.

The magnitude of the misery we were surrounded by came rushing back, however, when we learned that Irma doesn't have the money to pay for medical school. Then, as we waited in the long traffic jam at the border, we were further confronted with the disheartening sight of families with small children begging for whatever we might give them. We had taken a bucket to a flood. A Corazon build is profoundly uplifting and at the same time deeply sobering. It is simply a powerful experience that I recommend to all.