The day after Christmas is usually for relaxing in pajamas, eating leftovers and enjoying new gifts. For me, it has become so much more. Every other year, I leave behind the comfort of home and travel to Reynosa, Mexico — a city many Americans have never heard of, home to a community, or colonia, built in a trash dump.
I was 13 the first time I made the trip. My parents wanted me to see what others live without, especially during a season when we receive so much. I didn’t fully understand it then, but that first trip changed me.
The families we serve live in an active dump that’s been operating since 1993. People first came searching for anything useful. Eventually, they stayed, building shelters from scraps of tin, wood and discarded materials. These structures aren’t homes — they’re survival. No doors. No windows. No security. No dignity.
That’s where our church, Grace Church in Maryland Heights, comes in. We partner with Strategic Alliance’s Homes for the Homeless program, led by Roland and Carolyn Ashby, a couple in their seventies whose lives radiate unconditional love. With help from former Cardinals pitcher Jaime Garcia, who grew up in Reynosa, they’ve helped build more than 3,000 homes.
Families are selected by Alma, the local leader we call the “mayor” of the colonia. She manages a waitlist and chooses based on need, work ethic and circumstance — an impossible job that she carries with strength and compassion.
The houses we build are 12-by-20 feet, about the size of a shed. But inside those walls, lives are transformed. We build a loft so kids have their own sleeping space, a simple kitchen counter, locking windows with curtains and, most importantly, a real locking door — something many families have never had.
When we arrive, a concrete pad and lumber are waiting. Volunteers from our church bring a range of skills. Some have never picked up a hammer; others are experienced builders. My dad, Mark Rasch, owner of BenchMark Custom Homes, leads our team. We divide into roles — cutting, framing, painting — and get to work. The first day is a blur of sawdust and organized chaos, but by the end, walls are standing and hope is already taking shape.
By the third day, the roof, door and windows are installed. Then comes shopping day — one of my favorites. With translators, we take the family to buy essentials and give them donated coats, blankets, shoes and kitchen supplies. People don’t realize how cold Reynosa nights can be.
The final day is the reveal. Before the family enters, we gather to pray and explain why we’re there — not to feel good about ourselves, but to share the love of Jesus and remind them they matter. Then we step back and watch them see their home for the first time.
On our last trip, we found an old school desk, painted it bright pink and set it up with crayons and books for the family’s six-year-old daughter. When we opened the door, she ran straight to it and wouldn’t leave. Watching her claim that tiny space as her own is a moment I’ll never forget.
This year’s father worked all night at his job and still came to help us build during the day — the first time in five trips a recipient worked alongside us. My dad shared a verse that’s engraved on our own porch: To whom much is given, much is expected. He told him that whatever he has to spare, he should pass along. Watching him understand that generosity creates a ripple effect — that’s what this is really about.
Each year, we also visit families from previous builds. Despite language barriers and limited time together, they remember us. Their faces light up. They invite us in to show how they’ve made the space their own.
Beyond housing, Benchmark sponsors Strategic Alliance’s Escuela Viva program, which helps children attend school. We’ve seen incredible outcomes, including one former student who is now a doctor. When we visited our sponsored student this year, her mother told us she calls my dad “Papa.” Seeing him process what it means to be a father figure to a child on the other side of the border was something none of us expected.
On the final day, Jaime Garcia hosts a fiesta for the entire community. There’s music, food, bounce houses for kids and joy that fills the soccer field — a celebration of resilience and hope.
Leaving is never easy. We haven’t just built houses; we’ve built relationships.
For me, this is no longer just a mission trip. Every hammer swing and every nail driven is a declaration that every person deserves dignity, safety and hope. When I return home and lock my front door, I don’t just hear the click. I hear a promise — to never forget, to always give and to keep building hope, one home at a time.
The houses we build are 12-by-20 feet, about the size of a shed. But inside those walls, lives are transformed.
For me, this is no longer just a mission trip. Every hammer swing and every nail driven is a declaration that every person deserves dignity, safety and hope.