Moses is from Kenya

The Daraja African Children's Choir was at our church last Sunday. I was blessed to see them last year and got to spend time with 6 of the kids in a host home. They were SO loving and wonderful. This year, I was able to enjoy some of the boys in a host home on Saturday evening and again on Sunday evening. I can't tell you how happy these kids make me feel. They truly display the love of God in their hearts. He radiates in their faces.

Sunday evening, three of the boys shared their personal photo albums with us. We saw pictures of their home, their animals, their gardens, and their families. Such poverty. It broke my heart to know they would be returning to homes with no running water, refrigeration, or electricity in some cases. Yet in each of the pictures the boys were in, they had faces of true happiness. They might have a life that we consider difficult, but they were still happy.

I've heard it so many times before….and know it to be true. But we are terribly spoiled. And tremendously blessed. I just can't understand this world. Why some countries live in such poverty while others enjoy the land of plenty. And we constantly want more. I wonder how I can help these kids. How can my money help them? We can't change their government. We can't change the crime that occurs in their neighborhoods. Looking at the big picture, it seems hopeless. It seems all we did was show these kids what it's like to live in comfort and ease, then send them back to a new realization of how bad they really have it. Is that fair? I'm not sure it is. Yet at the same time, we've given them hope that their life might not always be that way. They can aspire to greater things. These few have an opportunity to rise above the rest.

My son and I became very attached to one particular little boy named Moses. He's 11. He is a happy, very comedic young man. And he loves to hug and be hugged. I want to help him. Not sure just how I can yet, but I'm going to try. I want him to know that once he returns to Africa, we have not forgotten him. He made a difference in our lives. He was not just a "receiver" of gifts while in the U.S., but he was a "giver." He, and all the Daraja kids blessed us.

This little story helps me put things into perspective.

The Starfish Thrower
One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean. Approaching the boy, he asked, "What are you doing?" The youth replied, "Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them back, they'll die." "Son," the man said, "don't you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can't make a difference!" After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…
I made a difference for that one."