Did you grow up like me?
Did you ever get way too excited about a black garbage bag sitting in the trunk of the car?
Of course, I got hand-me-downs from my sister—but she was much older than me. So most of the time, what I really lived for were those mystery bags. To me, they meant fun, new-to-me clothes just waiting to be discovered.
And people remembered us. Every now and then, someone would pass along quite the haul of “potential prospects.” One neighbor once gave us twelve pairs of jeans in my size — later I learned they were actually a really expensive brand. Another time, I received a few hoodies that became treasures through high school and even into college.
We genuinely loved those bags.
I think about that now as the clinic receives many donations of used clothes.
Some are a little too worn, but most—after a simple wash—are ready to bless another family. Of course, we face some unique challenges. For example, we can’t really use adult women’s pants… because all of the moms here wear traditional cortes!
But ministry is like that—there’s always another place, another need, another opportunity to pass things along.
In fact, that’s how we receive many of the clinic’s donations in the first place.
A larger, more central ministry receives enough that they pass along their overflow to us… and then we pass along our overflow to an even more remote ministry.
It’s a beautiful chain of provision.
We are also given extras from folks at church whose paca just got a new shipment, or from countless individuals when their kids grow out of a size.
Typically, we use more the baby cloths. When we do our late stage home visit with a mom, we take her a little gift bag with baby cloths, and maybe something for her or another child if we know about their ages.
But that’s not really what I wanted to share today.
I want to tell you about a small moment 1from a home visit this Friday.
We have a family we check in on regularly—a household of seven with no man present to provide or advocate for them.
There are four children, including a baby. The family is very thin, and the mothers have special needs, so we visit often to see how they are doing.
This Friday, we brought clothes—different sizes for the baby, the children, the moms, and the grandmother who somehow holds it all together.
And it was so fun to watch.
Their faces lit up in the exact same way mine used to as a child. That same spark. That same joy over something “new,” even if it had belonged to someone else first.
Sometimes I feel very far from Ohio—especially when we drive deep into the mountains and then climb even higher to reach the last house at the top. But in that moment, it felt like a piece of my childhood had come alive again.
One moment in particular stuck with me. As Daniel helped little B try on her new sweater, I noticed a name written on the tag.
I recognized it.
It belonged to a sweet young girl I know—someone who would be absolutely thrilled to know that her once-loved clothes have now become treasured possessions for this five-year-old.
And just like that, the circle felt complete.
So today, I’m feeling a little sentimental about hand-me-downs.
About how love gets passed along in the simplest ways.
About how something small can carry so much joy.
And about how, sometimes, a black garbage bag can still feel like the greatest gift in the world.
Thank you one and all for all your donations- financial, clothing, food. Most of all, thank you for praying for family’s like B’s, and for ourselves as we get to connect the dots between what’s old and what’s a treasure!
Check out the link below if you would like to join the team helping with the clinic’s month to month expenses.
https://www.missiongo.org/missionary/katie-riley
