I was sitting in Wendy’s in La Ceiba, Honduras trying to get some wifi. I was eating a frosty and trying to call my grandparents on Whatsapp with no luck when this little boy walked up.
He was heavy set. He wasn’t fat but he was husky. He had the build of a future linemen. He had tan olive tented skin. He was wearing a burgondy tshirt and a pair of cargo shorts. He had the most stunning blueish green eyes and his light brown hair was buzzed. This little boy was maybe in 5th or 6th grade and he was sweat dripping down his face.
He came up to me with little bags full of baby green mangos and melons wanting me to buy one. I barely looked at them and then said no. I don’t like either. Then I watched the little boy walk up to every family in the Wendy’s (probably 10) and no one wanted to buy anything from him.
My heart hurt. My heart still hurts for this little boy. I watched him walk into the play area and just stand there. I knew what he was doing, catching some cool air conditioning before he got kicked out. My heart hurt.
I went and asked if he was hungry and he said yes. I took him to the counter and said you can get whatever you like. Tentatively he asked for a chicken sandwich with all the fixings (in foreign countries the sandwich don’t come standard with toppings; you pay more for the fixings). I said yes and then motioned to the cashier to order what he asked for. But she wouldn’t. I ordered it for him and finally he had his sandwich in hand.
He came and sat down with me. He didn’t touch his food. He drank his coca-cola and left the food in the bag. I learned that he wanted to learn english but he can’t afford classes. I learned he’s the youngest of 7 siblings and he lives in a town about 20 minutes from where we were.
Then he asked me to buy his fruit again. But I said no. He pressed and pressed and then finally asked if he could just have 10 Lempiras (less than 50 cents) but I still said no. I knew he needed the 10 Lempiras to get on the bus and go home. I knew all he wanted to do was sell one more thing so he could go home for the night.
I knew what he wanted and needed and I wanted to help him. But I didn’t because I felt God telling me I had done enough. I had done what God asked me to do and that was all that was required of me.
It hurts and it’s hard to know we can’t do everything for everyone. It hurts knowing we can’t fix people’s situations or remove them from their pain. We can’t save them. We can’t. But we can do something. We can love. And that is what God calls us to do.
