Getting help from where you might least expect it

So there I was, slogging my way down a foot path carved along the slope of a rainforestcovered Guatemalan mountain in the fading twilight of a late-July Saturday evening.

My head, shoes and cargo pants were soaked by the torrential rain, my pants caked in layers of mud after slipping and impacting the gooey red, Guatemalan soil that made walking in my eight-year-old Teva hiking shoes akin to dancing on ice in bedroom slippers. Even under my plastic poncho, loaned to me by my friend Nancy because I had forgotten to include my own in my overnight bag, I was awash — not from rain but from sweat....