A ministry tour centered on children, youth, and practical help
On a weeklong swing through Guatemala, Panama, and Costa Rica, Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles kept the focus squarely on one group: the rising generation. This wasn’t a ceremonial tour. It mixed meetings at presidential palaces with hands-on stops at community programs, and it came with concrete commitments aimed at children’s health and youth development.
Traveling with his wife, Sister Susan L. Gong, Elder Gong used each stop to highlight two themes: practical humanitarian aid and the daily work of helping teenagers grow into healthy, capable adults. At each venue he shared the updated “For the Strength of Youth” guide, a values-based booklet the Church uses to help young people make thoughtful choices about school, friends, media, faith, and service. The message throughout the trip was consistent—principles and parental support matter, and so do strong public institutions that put children first.
Leaders across the region echoed that focus. Government officials talked about youth as a national priority, not just a Church concern. That alignment opened doors for conversations about where faith groups can responsibly help—especially in spaces like pediatric care, early learning, family support, and resilience training for teens navigating social pressures and the online world.
The tour came as communities across Central America work to close gaps that widened during the pandemic: learning loss, strain on public health systems, and more pressure on low-income families. In that context, targeted donations, training, and youth mentoring—things the Church has long supported across the region—can be the difference between good intentions and measurable results.
What changed on the ground: Guatemala, Panama, and Costa Rica
Guatemala was the first stop, and it was direct. On November 14, Sister Gong helped deliver a Church donation to Guatemala’s Centro de Atención Integral, a program that provides free childcare and essential services for low-income families. These are the kinds of places where parents can leave children in safe, structured care while they work, and where kids get stability—daily routines, early learning, social support—many would otherwise miss. Standing with staff, Sister Gong expressed simple gratitude and support: they were, she said, blessing children and doing God’s work.
The visit underscored how early childhood care pays off far beyond the classroom. When children get steady care and stimulation, they show up to primary school ready to learn. When parents know their kids are safe, they can take jobs, attend training, or build small businesses—moves that reduce family stress and lift household income. Donations to centers like this often go toward basics that keep programs running: supplies, equipment, and training for staff who manage large groups of active, curious kids.
One day later, the focus shifted to Panama. On November 15, Elder Gong met with Vice President José Gabriel Carrizo to talk through ongoing humanitarian work in the country and what more could be done for youth. During the meeting, he presented the “For the Strength of Youth” guide and walked through how the principles inside—respect, honesty, courage, healthy habits—fit with what many public schools and community groups are already teaching. The conversation wasn’t abstract. It looked at specific areas where Church-supported efforts have had traction in the region: disaster response, vision care, wheelchairs for mobility, clean water projects, neonatal resuscitation training, and school support in underserved areas.
Panama’s government has flagged youth development as a national priority in recent years, especially around education quality, vocational paths, and online safety. That dovetails with the Church’s local programs for teens—seminaries, service projects, and peer mentoring—where young people practice leadership by planning events, teaching lessons, and serving neighbors. The idea is simple but powerful: give teens real responsibility and consistent adults in their corner, and they grow into the kind of citizens communities need.
The final stop brought an even more concrete commitment. On November 18 in San José, Costa Rica, Elder and Sister Gong met President Rodrigo Chaves Robles at the Presidential Palace. They were joined by Elder and Sister José A. Teixeira and Elder and Sister Taylor. The discussion went deep on what helps children thrive: strong families, teachers backed by training and resources, and values that hold up under pressure—respect, honesty, resilience, and perseverance. They also discussed how parents play a central role in their children’s intellectual, social, and spiritual growth, and how schools and faith groups can reinforce that effort rather than replace it.
As part of that conversation, Elder Gong shared copies of the “For the Strength of Youth” guide, a Book of Mormon, and a Christus statuette—a symbol Latter-day Saints often use to point to Jesus Christ as the center of their beliefs. The intent wasn’t proselytizing inside a government office; it was context for why these values matter so much to Church members and why they keep showing up in the Church’s humanitarian work.
The standout outcome from Costa Rica was an agreement to support a project to strengthen the intensive care unit at the National Children’s Hospital. The ICU is where the sickest kids go—those who need specialized equipment, more hands-on care, and careful monitoring that general pediatric wards can’t provide. The project is expected to benefit about 2,000 children, according to the government’s estimate, and President Chaves expressed gratitude for the support.
Why does an ICU upgrade matter? It’s not just machines. Better pediatric intensive care means shorter waits, fewer transfers to private facilities families can’t afford, and stronger outcomes when minutes count. In practical terms, projects like this can cover new equipment, staff training, or expanded capacity—each piece making the system more resilient the next time a public health surge or disaster hits. For families, it’s about having the best possible care close to home when a child is at their most vulnerable.
Across the three countries, a few patterns emerged. First, the Church is leaning into partnerships where governments set priorities, and faith groups add capacity. That keeps the work grounded in public need, not just good intentions. Second, the youth focus is staying front-and-center. Handing national leaders a booklet may sound simple, but it opens a door to more tangible follow-up: workshops for parents, youth leadership training, and school-based values discussions that build on what teachers are already doing. Third, donations are targeting leverage points—places where a relatively focused investment creates a wider ripple, like early learning centers or pediatric intensive care.
There’s also the practical matter of continuity. Anyone can make a one-time pledge. What changes systems is coordination over months and years—mapping needs with local ministries, purchasing the right equipment, offering training that sticks, and measuring results. Church humanitarian teams in the region typically do that work alongside local leaders and clinicians, and this tour signaled those teams will have more to do in the months ahead.
Context matters here. Central American families are still dealing with post-pandemic learning gaps, tight household budgets, and stress that trickles down to kids. A childcare slot can be the difference between a parent keeping a job and falling out of the workforce. A youth mentor can be the difference between a teen drifting online and finding a healthy peer group. An ICU upgrade can be the difference between a close call and a loss. These are not abstract debates. They’re daily choices, and they’re solvable with the right partnerships.
The meetings also showed how faith and public service can align without blurring roles. Governments set policy. Faith groups bring volunteers, networks, and funds. The overlap comes in the shared goals: safer neighborhoods, stronger families, students who show up ready to learn, and hospitals that save more lives. When leaders talk the same language—respect, honesty, resilience—the programs that follow tend to move faster.
What comes next? Expect follow-up teams to hammer out project scopes, timelines, and training schedules. In Costa Rica, that likely means moving from commitment to technical plans with hospital administrators—what to buy, who to train, and how to track outcomes for the roughly 2,000 children expected to benefit. In Panama and Guatemala, it means mapping where youth and family services will have the biggest impact, building on existing programs rather than starting from scratch.
None of this replaces the everyday work happening in congregations and communities. Local Latter-day Saint youth groups will keep organizing service days. Parents will keep meeting with leaders to plan activities that build character and skills. Health workers and teachers will do what they always do—show up, day after day, for children who need them. The tour simply put more resources and attention behind those efforts, and it did so with a clear message: the future of any country rests on how it treats its youngest citizens.
In a week of meetings, donations, and quiet conversations, that message came through: invest early, build up parents, and strengthen the places that care for kids when life goes off-script. It’s ordinary work, done by ordinary people. But when national leaders, hospitals, and faith communities pull in the same direction, the results stop feeling ordinary.
