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On Saturday morning at Hogar Zoe, Vineyard of Escazœ members scatter through the neighborhood to gather children for the day's program. Meanwhile, two young men enrolled in Zoe's 15-month drug rehabilitation bustle around a dark kitchen, chopping vegetables and boiling cauldrons of water for rice in preparation for the interns' lunch. Allan, 24, clad in a baggy black T-shirt and jeans, leans against a refrigerator for a few minutes to talk about himself.

Allan joined a street gang, and at 11 committed his first robbery. His mother, a drug dealer, would pay him four grams of cocaine for babysitting his two brothers. Crack was Allan's drug of choice. But when he ran out, he often drank rubbing alcohol, which could have killed him.

Eleven months ago, following a drug deal that turned violent, an old friend from the streets who had become a Christian and graduated from Hogar Zoe brought Allan to the center. Director Córdoba, a one-time addict who founded Zoe, interviews candidates and rejects the applications of those he believes are simply seeking food and shelter rather than a drug-free life. Of the 60 percent accepted, almost all graduate. The program includes intense prayer and Bible study, group worship, counseling, and learning a trade, such as carpentry, welding, or greenhouse gardening. Some 40 interns receive housing, medical attention, and three meals a day; 60 others live off-campus but also participate. Its success has prompted Costa Rican courts to send convicted addicts to Hogar Zoe as an alternative to prison.

"Every day is a fight, but I feel at peace," Allan says. "God comes first. Nothing else interests me. I want to stay here and help others."

Allan is a portrait of what the toddler Cuco could become without intervention. Six months ago, Cuco was violent and aggressive toward others, often hitting and kicking, wholly unafraid of reprisals. "He was the angriest child I've ever seen," says Hans Wust, Vineyard's worship leader, who helps with the children's program. "[Cuco's] eyes are not a 2-year-old's eyes."

Near the food-serving area, the little boy glares at Dearnley, who begins to play a hand game with him. But within minutes, Cuco's countenance softens, then he touches Dearnley's hand and smiles. Without this program, Wust says, "I can't imagine what he could turn into."

Sometimes as many as 200 children ages 3 to 13 gather on Saturdays for lunch and fun- but-meaningful Bible-focused activities. Almost all of these children suffer from parental neglect or abuse or exposure to the hostile streets of Alejuelita. "Through our Saturday program, Cuco has learned about the love of Jesus and that some adults care enough to spend time with him," Dearnley says.

Until coffee sales begin perking up, a weedy lot adjacent to the back fence is a poignant reminder that many others could be reached. Dearnley and Córdoba imagine building a community center and gymnasium to expand the neighborhood ministry and serve more meals, as well as to extend an existing clothing-distribution program and launch "medical Saturdays" for the children. They want to establish an intern mentorship network and equip them with prime job skills; to that end Dearnley and Córdoba hope for a computer bank and an English teacher.

Hogar Zoe receives some money from Costa Rica's Evangelical Alliance and individual churches, such as the Vineyard of Escazœ. Until Pura Vida turns more of a profit, Hogar Zoe is mostly self-supporting through interns' carpentry, painting, and plumbing, Córdoba says.

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November (Web-only) 2003, Vol. 47