Buying Bananas
- Renée Edmé
- 7 hours ago
- 6 min read
Sunday, February 8, 2026 - [click here to support the continuing work at MOHI]
Today's update is from Taran and Jonathan
Sometimes ministry looks like clinics, classrooms, and construction projects. And sometimes, it looks like standing on the side of the road, negotiating over bananas.
This week, one of our team members, Jonathan, shares a story from the Dominican Republic that, at first glance, seems small and ordinary. But as the moment unfolds, it becomes a powerful reminder that dignity, presence, and respect matter just as much as provision. His reflection invites us to slow down, to listen, and to remember that meaningful ministry is rarely efficient—but it is always deeply human.
Before you read his story, we want to share a glimpse into what this past week looked like across our communities in both the Dominican Republic and Haiti. As you read, you may notice a common thread woven throughout: encouragement, presence, and the quiet, faithful work that happens when people show up for one another.
(Be sure to keep reading for Jonathan’s full reflection at the end of this post.)
Dominican Republic Updates
It was a joy to welcome friends from New England Chapel this past week. We were joined by some familiar faces and many new ones. Hosting visitors is always deeply encouraging—for our team and for our staff. It is a reminder that we are not alone in this work.

Although the work we do is incredibly rewarding, it can also be heavy. Scripture reminds us to “not grow weary in doing good” (Galatians 6:9). In Hebrews, we are encouraged to “encourage one another daily.” The presence of visitors—people who come simply to be with us, serve alongside us, and share life—is a tangible expression of that encouragement.
This week truly felt like a week of encouragement.
The team spent several days in the village of La Grúa, playing with children and sharing meals together. They brought pizza—a special treat that brought a lot of joy and laughter. They also worked hard, digging a trench and laying pipe to bring water and electricity between the water house and the community room.

Beyond the projects, the team spent time visiting local families, sitting in their homes, listening, and being present. These moments—quiet and relational—often matter more than we realize.

The team also helped care for the animals at the mission house. Each morning, they fed the chickens and tended to the bunnies. We are now collecting dozens of eggs each day, which not only supports our teams but also allows us to regularly serve eggs to children in our feeding programs. (And yes—they absolutely love them.)

Haiti Updates
In Haiti, it continues to be a joy to see the children in our schools learning and growing.

In addition to the standard curriculum, we work hard to teach English. One of the ways we do this is through music.
This past week, students practiced “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes,” filling classrooms with movement and laughter.

Penmanship is also an important part of education in Haiti. We continue to teach cursive writing, which remains a standard and practical form of communication.

We are also in the process of expanding the medical clinic in Thozin to include a physical therapy office.
Construction is currently underway on this new space.

Additional Updates from the Dominican Republic
New classes have begun in the Business Academy. This includes second-level computer and business courses, as well as new Level 1 classes in English, computers, and business. It is encouraging to see both returning and new students stepping into these opportunities.

We also experienced several days of rain this past week—good news for the garden. Crops are growing, which increases sustainability and supports our feeding programs. And yes, fresh eggs continue to be a daily gift here as well.

Local leaders are also looking ahead with anticipation to an upcoming leadership seminar. Pastors from several churches and multiple states will be joining us to teach, share, and invest in leaders from the region.

Mission House Update
We are close to signing for the mission house in Luperón, and plans are already underway for spring and summer construction teams. One of our most urgent needs is replacing the roof, as leaks have become severe and require immediate attention.
This project will also include finishing the third floor, adding additional bedrooms and bathrooms. If you have skills in construction—carpentry, plumbing, electrical, or related trades—we would love to talk with you about joining one of these upcoming teams.
If you are interested, please email us at info@mohintl.org.If you would like to financially partner with this project, you can do so using the donation button.
Buying Bananas
This past week in Luperón, Dominican Republic, was full in all the ways that life and ministry tend to be full here—unpredictable, relational, occasionally frustrating, and often quietly profound.
A few days ago, I was traveling with our Dominican Republic staff member, Marlouse, heading toward a rural village to help refill prescription medications for individuals who had been seen by the BlessBack Worldwide medical team a couple of weeks earlier. These were follow-up visits—quiet, behind-the-scenes work that rarely makes headlines but matters deeply to the people receiving care.

On the way, we realized we had a small problem. Our usual fruit delivery—something we often rely on to bring a little joy and nourishment to children along the route—had been delayed. We decided to improvise. We would buy bananas along the way and hand them out ourselves.

Simple enough. Or so we thought.
We pulled into a gas station to fill up, and I ran inside to grab a soda. When I came back out, I immediately noticed something was happening. Marlouse was standing near the truck with an elderly Dominican man who had all of his bananas piled into a five-gallon bucket. They were talking animatedly—very animatedly. Their voices were raised, hands moving, expressions intense. To an outsider, it looked like an argument, maybe even an angry one.
Marlouse was trying to buy bananas. All of them.
The man was having none of it.
When I joined the conversation, it quickly became clear what the issue was. We wanted to purchase all of the bananas he had for sale, at a fair price. From my perspective, this seemed like a win. One transaction. Guaranteed income. No more standing in the sun trying to sell one bunch at a time.
But the man protested strongly. If he sold all of his bananas now, he explained, he wouldn’t have anything left to sell later.
I tried to help—perhaps too logically. I pointed out that if he sold everything now, his workday would essentially be finished. He could go home knowing his product was sold and his income secured.
That’s when he said something that stopped me.
If he sold all his bananas at once, he told me, he would have to go home and sit. And he did not want to sit. He wanted to be on the street. He wanted to be working.
In that moment, I realized this was not about money.
It was about dignity.
It was about the value of work—not just the outcome of work, but the act of it. Being present. Being useful. Being seen. Participating in the rhythm of daily life rather than sitting at home idle. What I had framed as efficiency, he experienced as loss.
Marlouse understood this immediately. She was patient, calm, and deeply respectful. While I felt myself growing frustrated at what I perceived as a lack of logic, she continued to engage him where he was, not where we wanted him to be. She listened. She waited. She allowed the conversation to unfold at his pace.

After what felt like far too long—but was probably about 45 minutes—we reached a compromise. We would buy about half of the bananas. He was happy with that. He could earn some money and still have bananas left to sell throughout the day. A solution rooted in respect rather than efficiency.
Or so we thought.
When it came time to pay, the man suddenly decided the price was too low. Despite having already packaged the bananas and placed them in the back of our truck, he began pulling them back out one by one and returning them to his bucket.
I’ll admit—I found it comical. I also found it a little exasperating.
Eventually, after what truly was way too much time spent negotiating over a few dozen bananas, we finalized the purchase and continued on our way—bananas secured, mission intact.
As we drove off, I couldn’t stop thinking about that exchange. It reminded me that development, accompaniment, and partnership are rarely neat or efficient. They don’t always align with our assumptions or our timelines. And they often require us to pause, listen, and unlearn.
Sometimes, buying bananas isn’t just about bananas.
Sometimes, it’s about learning—again—that dignity matters just as much as provision, and that real ministry happens not only in the big moments, but in the messy, human ones along the side of the road.


























