What are 2 green mangos? They are tart fruits that have been plucked from the tree before they had time to ripen. They are food of survival until the harvest is ready. They are thin strips of sour fruit dipped in salt to make them taste better. They are fruit, food, survival. By themselves, 2 green mangos are nothing special. They can be found on a tree at every house in the village. But combine 2 green mangos with friends, gringos (white people), Jesus, laughter, love, and a language barrier, and they take on a whole new meaning.
Holding hands with my young Nicaraguan friends, I'm led through a barb wire gate into the dusty yards of their homes. I'm introduced to their entire families: parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, all living right next door. They offer me their finest chair, a plastic chair with one arm rest broken off, and let me rest under the shade of a mango tree. From the tree, they pluck 2 green mangos, one for me and one for Mossy, the honored guests. As we sit, they wash and cut the mangos, bringing out the salt just in case. Together with our friends, we eat the 2 green mangos, trying not to let our faces show our dislike of the fruit. Together we laugh as Mossy's face reflects the sour taste of the fruit. They laugh as I, once again, have stammered an incorrect sentence in broken Spanish, just trying to get an idea across.
Then the atmosphere changes slightly as Mossy and I tell our friends that we're Christians, here as missionaries. At this point, the language barrier only allows me to say so much. So, I offer a smile, a friendship, a prayer in a language different than their own. As we prepare to leave the village for the day, the rest of my mango is passed around the group of kids gathered to say goodbye. Today was a victory. Not because anyone gave their lives to Christ, but because today I got the chance to share 2 green mangos with friends. Today God broke down some walls between my new friends and me, allowing me a way into their lives, into truly influencing them for the better.
Some day soon, I will sit in that same broken plastic chair and eat a slightly less green mango from the tree. And as we eat together, I will tell them a story, the best story ever told. I will tell them of a God who made everyone and everything, even this mango. And maybe as I eat, that mango that I've patiently waited to ripen, will be a little better received. For now, I have to trust in God to ripen their hearts as he ripens our relationships. Until the day when the 2 green mangos are no longer green.
