A few weeks back someone asked us if we’d be willing to help host some children in the Africa Children’s Choir from Uganda and Kenya. We said yes, so Jackie, Sarah and Julian, 8 and 9 year olds, arrived Saturday afternoon with their chaperone.
Here is how we knew that we had just been drawn into what will end up being one of the great blessings of our lives: Tammy went to pick them up at the Berean church while I scrambled to put a new fan in the refrigerator (another story). When they got to our house, they said in unison to Tammy before getting out of the car, “Thank you, Auntie, for driving us here. May God bless you!” Tears filled her eyes.
Their presence is precious. “Yes, please.” “No thank you, Uncle.” “Thank you, Uncle and Auntie, for the dinner. May God bless you. May we be excused now?” Hugs before they go to bed, quiet, beautiful young prayers before they fall asleep, more hugs when they come up in the morning, shoes always lined up in a tidy row, immediate response when it’s time for a shower or bed, dancing in the living room.
Less than a year ago these were some of Africa’s worst off children. They are orphans or single parent kids plucked from slums, city streets, extreme poverty and despair. We were told not to ask about their families, nor their schools, because they have virtually had none. Out of a thousand applicants, they were “the 26 chosen ones.”
They are choir #30 after 25 years of this ministry. The first ones are now doctors, lawyers, computer scientists, chefs…. “Our” three girls want to be an astronaut, a designer and a musician. During their concert we heard from one former choir member who is now a young man recently graduated with a degree in business management. When they found him, he was a seven-year-old who had migrated by himself to the city because severe drought had decimated his village. He was scavenging the streets every day looking for scraps of food.
I’m having the hardest time getting my head around this. By grace, one child plucked out of a thousand equally needy ones. I’m elated for these, but what about the thousands of other seven-year-olds who are wandering the streets today scavenging for food? Tammy and Sheila and I agreed that the worst part of this whole thing would be selecting the 26. Reading off the final list. Seeing 26 children rejoice, and 974 go back to their slums. How could you keep doing that for 25 years? How do you focus yourself to keep doing something, even if you can’t do everything?
Perhaps the answer is that these will multiply the efforts. In another generation they will touch other children’s lives. Only 12 disciples changed the world. Perhaps the takeaway is that if I invest heavily in a few lives, that offers more to the world than scattering my efforts over too many. I don’t know, but somehow this will improve my own sense of “ministry.”
If you ever get a chance to hear them in concert, or to host a few of them, drop everything and do it. Or maybe not, but do something this year to impact a few lives deeply. Who knows but that in 25 years Jackie the fearless one will be lifting off for the moon, in a space suit designed by Sarah with the gorgeous smile, to the accompaniment of rousing music by Julian with the gentle spirit. We will weep openly, and remember the awesome privilege we had of having them at our table laughing, teasing, and quietly thanking God for the people who love them.
They will each sign my “Do the 52” Passport in the space, “Invite someone from another country home for a meal.” When you Do the 52, expect to be touched. The points you get, will not really be the point.
A beautiful story! Thanks for sharing.
Posted by: Michelle | January 11, 2008 at 02:19 PM