June - July 2025

Corn and Salt

Why Knowing a Trade Isn’t Just Practical

Hello friends and family,

There are moments in this work that stop me in my tracks, not because they’re dramatic, but because they’re quiet and true. Moments that reveal both the strength and the struggle of the people we walk with.

This past month was full of those moments.

One of these days I was walking around town trying to find an adapter for my propane dryer, something oddly hard to find. I went from hardware store to hardware store, and no one seemed to know how to help me.

Finally, I walked into a place called Perla. The owner, a woman in her early 40s, wearing a dress and high heels, holding her baby looked at me, listened closely, and understood right away.

She handed me her baby and said, “Can you hold him while I run upstairs?” Her heels echoed through the building as she climbed to find exactly what I needed.

That moment stayed with me.

Women in El Naranjo, San Francisco de Opalaca working on lunchboxes for their small business.

Knowing a trade matters. Being good at something. Being the one people trust to solve a problem. That skill can help a woman provide for her family but more than that, it changes how she sees herself. It builds confidence. It shapes the way she envisions her future. It gives her reason to keep going.

Picture by Luis Galeas, San Francisco de Opalaca, Honduras

That thought followed me all the way back to Opalaca where we’re walking with women in communities like El Naranjo.

During our last visit, I was cooking in my friend’s kitchen, as I usually do when we visit. She shared some of her corn with me and we made tortillas. She and her husband have two beautiful children, a girl and a boy.

Later that evening, she excused herself to feed her family dinner. I watched her warm up the corn tortillas we had made, and then sprinkle just a pinch of salt. That was their dinner. Corn and salt.

We’ve made it a habit to bring better food with us when we visit, especially protein, which is almost nonexistent in the area. I made two eggs for me and Luis, and I gave her four eggs for her family.

She did something that caught me off guard.

She cooked only one of the four eggs. She tore the tortillas into pieces and scrambled them with that single egg saving the other three for the days ahead.

This is what resilience looks like when resources are scarce.
This is why Relentless exists. When men and women are equipped and trusted, powerful change happens.

We’re investing, slowly, relationally, and consistently, in changing realities that have been overlooked for too long. We’re not dropping in with quick fixes. We’re staying, listening, working alongside women who carry wisdom, strength, and untapped potential.

.Thank you for believing in that kind of work. We need your help to continue to build.

Give here or reach out to learn how you can walk with us.

Con cariño y esperanza,