Perspective on Missionary Loss

Time: July 1948.

Place: a deserted street corner in Guatemala City. I could feel the heat of the rough cement sidewalk against my hands and body. In front of me a machine gun rattled and spat out hot empty cartridges that rolled down aimlessly and tumbled into the gutter. I lifted my, face in the acrid air and saw two men crawling from a shattered vehicle up the street.