Andrea stood in front of the mirror, hardly recognizing the little girl looking back at her.

Just months earlier, the reflection would have told a very different story.

When Andrea arrived at The Refuge children’s home at Mission Lazarus, she was six years old but carried burdens no child should. She came with her two-year-old brother, both of them weak from severe malnutrition and their bodies showing the effects of long neglect. Andrea had never set foot in a classroom and had never been given the simple, steady care every child needs to grow.

For nine years, Candida Rosa Benítez walked the paths of Finca San Lázaro with quiet faithfulness. What may have looked like ordinary work was, in reality, the steady unfolding of something much greater. When Rosa first arrived, seven members of her family depended on her. She carried the weight of providing each day—showing up with perseverance, sacrifice, and deep love. There were challenges, but she remained determined to build a different future for her family.

Grace is easiest to admire from a distance. It is harder—and holier—to recognize when it wears dust on its feet and hunger in its stomach.

In Fort-Liberté, Haiti, I saw despair and dignity standing side by side. Poverty that constricts opportunity. Hunger that lingers longer than it should. Uncertainty that presses on families daily. And yet, in the middle of it all, I witnessed something the world often misses: not mere endurance, but life being lived with intention and faith.

For months each year in southern Honduras, the river rises. What is often a bone-dry riverbed can become impassable during the rainy season, cutting off entire communities from school, medical care, and even basic supplies. Life, quite literally, is put on hold.

This was the reality for one remote community we serve in Honduras until a group from Churchill Mortgage decided to step in. They didn’t just send support, they showed up!

For nearly 18 years, Henry has been waking up before dawn, traveling a long distance each day to serve at Mission Lazarus in Honduras. He doesn’t do it for recognition. He does it because, as he says, he loves his work, and because he knows he is serving God. Henry works with service teams from North America, leading projects that may seem simple at first glance: building latrines in rural communities.

At San Lázaro Coffee, coffee is a tool for transformation. While we are committed to quality, sustainability, and responsible farming, our deeper purpose is in people.

This week marks the first day of school at Lazarus Academy. With the new school year comes fresh notebooks, new pencils, nervous smiles, and the kind of hope that only comes with a new beginning.

When people talk about Haiti, the headlines are heavy - violence, instability, uncertainty. But on the ground, another story is unfolding. One that is quiet, courageous, and deeply hopeful. In just a few weeks, something extraordinary will happen.

Every year, Heartland Dental Foundation partners with Mission Lazarus by serving alongside our medical and dental teams in the remote mountains of Honduras. Using Mission Lazarus facilities and working hand in hand with our local staff, Heartland volunteers provide specialized dental care through two focused clinical areas. One clinic delivers restorative and root canal treatment, while the other focuses on extractions.

As we close out 2025, my heart is full of gratitude for the ways God has worked through Mission Lazarus over nearly 25 years. What began as a simple desire to serve has grown into a ministry where students learn with dignity, families find hope, and communities encounter the Good News of Jesus.

Juan’s story captures the heart of Mission Lazarus. We don’t come to fix poverty - we come to walk alongside men and women as they discover their God-given potential. Seeing Juan grow from a local mason to a leader shaping others’ futures is living proof that transformation happens when faith, opportunity, and hard work come together.

In the small village of Jayacayan, where job opportunities are scarce and most women are expected to stay at home, Nancy Mondragón has learned that hope can be planted like a seed. At 28 years old, she lives with her husband, their little girl, and her in-laws in a modest home where every bit of income matters.

Litzy’s dream represents the future we envision for every child who walks through the doors of Lazarus Academy - a future filled with opportunity, faith, and purpose. As we expand the school, your partnership ensures more students will have the chance to learn, grow, and lead. Together, we are building something that will last for generations.

Nineteen years ago, against all odds, a little girl’s life was about to change forever. Six-year-old Marcela Betanco arrived at the Mission Lazarus Refuge Children’s Home in Honduras with her three siblings. In her short life, Marcela had already endured more than most people will face in a lifetime.

In the quiet hills of La Laguna, Honduras, a 62-year-old farmer named Jose Corrales spent his days planting maize and beans—just enough to feed his family. For over 30 years, he and his wife, Candida, raised six children without access to basic sanitation. Like many of their neighbors, they had no latrine. They used the surrounding forest, exposing themselves and their children to serious health risks.

In the quiet La Botija mountains of southern Honduras, something beautiful is happening. It’s not just coffee being cultivated at San Lazaro Coffee — it’s hope. Neyli Cruz, 23 years old, is a shining example of that hope. Originally from the small community of San Pedro del Norte, Nicaragua, Neyli was no stranger to hardship.

For many children in Potreritos, a deeply isolated community with no access to dental care, tooth decay isn’t just a minor inconvenience—it’s a serious threat. Without treatment, they risk losing their teeth at a young age, making it painful to eat, speak, or even smile.

What if your life depended on medical care that was nowhere to be found? For thousands of Hondurans, this isn’t just a fear—it’s their reality. Scattered across the remote mountains and dense jungles of southern Honduras, entire villages live completely off the land, farming just enough to survive. These subsistence farmers and their families work tirelessly to grow beans and corn, yet when sickness strikes, there is nowhere to turn.

In the small village of La Danta, located just 30 minutes from Namasigüe, Choluteca, most families struggle to meet their basic needs. The intense heat scorches the land, and nearly everyone relies on subsistence farming, growing corn to feed their families. But since corn alone doesn’t provide enough income, many also find work in fields harvesting melon, watermelon, sugarcane, or on shrimp farms.

Namasigüe is hot, dry, and economically challenged. Most families survive by growing corn, earning just enough to put food on the table. Others find seasonal work in melon, watermelon, sugarcane, or shrimp farms, doing whatever it takes to survive. But for Jorge, his wife Rosa Castellón, and their five children, survival meant sacrifice, discomfort, and hardship—until one day, everything changed.