College students remove a window from a home in Rosharon, an area still dealing with flooding more than six months after a hurricane ripped through the community.
College students remove a window from a home in Rosharon, an area still dealing with flooding more than six months after a hurricane ripped through the community.
words by
photos and video by
published in
Lauren Light kneels in the grass, jeans faded with dirt. Using her crowbar and hammer, she maneuvers another nail out of the old wood. Her braided ponytail swings in the breeze. She’s been at this for six hours.
More than six months have passed since the hurricane barreled through Little Cambodia, flooding many of the residential homes and greenhouses in this small farming community. Yet debris still lines the rough, potholed roads. Torn-apart houses have long sat empty.
In the 1970s, Cambodians settled here, fleeing genocide. Now, Cambodians, Laotians and Latinos fill the area. Not many speak English. A Buddhist temple sits in the middle of town, covered by a bright red roof and surrounded by a black iron fence.
Little Cambodia is nestled in the town of Rosharon, Texas, 32 miles from Houston. But in the midst of Hurricane Harvey clean-up efforts, this community feels left behind.
Throughout March 2018, the campus ministry of Cru® mobilized more than 1,000 college students, staff members and volunteers to spend nearly 11,000 hours providing Hurricane Harvey relief work in and around Houston.
Lauren, a 23-year-old intern with Cru at Virginia Tech, was in Little Cambodia for the first week of the work. As one of 75 Virginia Tech Hokies forgoing the beach this spring break, she opted instead for back-breaking, all-day manual labor—demolishing damaged homes, picking up debris, digging post holes, laying new foundations and pulling nails out of old wood.
But Lauren didn’t expect that the deeper needs in Little Cambodia would not really be physical at all.
“The biggest thing I learned was that there is tremendous poverty in the United States. I think I’ve always known this to be true, but being faced with this reality was really overwhelming at first. Seeing people living under tarps with no clean water, surrounded by trash and devastation, was hard. I have seen similar things in my travels to Central America, but never anticipated the damage from a storm six months prior to be so pervasive in the United States.”
“I love to get down and dirty and work with my hands, and that’s why I came on this trip,” Lauren says. “But I’ve been surprised that the real work isn’t picking up trash. The real work isn’t building ramps or anything like that. The real work that needs to be done is that these people need to know Christ.”
Lauren’s passion to tell others about Christ is contagious. A former athlete, she was a party girl in high school. Emptiness accumulated in her life, culminating at a party her senior year. She sat on a bathroom floor, drunk and full of regret.
“This wasn’t how I wanted to be at all,” Lauren remembers thinking. “That night, I was like, God, I need Your help. I need to put my worth in something that matters.”
A few weeks later, as a college freshman, Lauren walked into Cru at Virginia Tech.
“When my life was transformed by the love of Christ, my eyes were peeled off of myself in a way I’d never experienced before,” Lauren says. “I started seeing people completely differently—as souls.”
“I would want the average Christian to know that there are people in our own country who have never heard the gospel of Jesus Christ. There are people living in unthinkable poverty who are extremely open to receiving help and hearing about the hope that we have in Christ. If you have the ability to give financially, wonderful! If you have the ability to invest spiritually, even better.”
Through those eyes Lauren saw Jade on her first day in Little Cambodia. On her way to lunch after working all morning, Lauren encountered a Laotian man and his 21-year-old daughter, Jade. Jade was helping her father tear down her grandmother’s home that’d been destroyed in the storm. Maybe it was that the two of them were working alone in the day’s heat or maybe it was the fact that Jade was around Lauren’s age, but Lauren felt drawn to Jade.
Rebecca Lansford—Lauren’s mentor and fellow staff member at Virginia Tech—and Lauren postponed lunch to help Jade and her father. As they worked, they noticed Jade’s open and easygoing personality. Jade’s father told Lauren that if they returned the next day, he’d have a job for them.
“We’ll be there,” Lauren said.
The next day, the father led them to a woodpile and asked them to remove nails so that he could potentially reuse the wood. This type of slow, mundane work seemed pointless in light of the greater needs of the area. But that didn’t matter to Lauren.
“It was perfect,” Lauren says. “They’ll see we’ll pull nails. If they see we’re willing to do this all day, maybe it’ll deepen our relationship with their family and open up an avenue for the gospel.”
And it did.
During the next few days, Lauren and Rebecca heard about Jade’s sadness in leaving her life in California to come to Texas to help care for her grandmother. They saw Jade’s unwavering dedication to her family and learned about some of her Buddhist beliefs. They played outside with her younger brothers and developmentally disabled sister. And Lauren and Rebecca had opportunities to talk with Jade about Christ and their beliefs as Christians. Since leaving Little Cambodia, Rebecca has continued to text with Jade.
“Rebecca and I asked the Lord to open avenues for us to share the gospel on our trip,” Lauren says. “And when Jade and her family responded to us with kindness and warmth, we knew that God had directed us. At that point, it was just a matter of obedience.”
As Lauren and her friends served Jade and her family’s physical needs, her heart inclined toward them. Like Christ, their willingness to care for both physical and spiritual needs made all the difference. Pulling nails led to a relationship.
*Photo contains minor digital alterations to logos.
©1994-2022 Cru®. All Rights Reserved.