Just one month ago I would have told you that I didn’t like kids. They were never really my thing. Even when I was a kid I preferred the company of adults. I never grew up around them, and I had no idea how to act around “mini people.“ Do I treat them like adults or talk to them like babies? Only the Lord knows.
My first month here in South Africa God decided to help me conquer that fear by throwing me into ministry at Hope School. Hope is a Christian school for kids from the local townships like Scenery Park, Duncan Village, and Riesten. During apartheid the black South Africans were forced to live in townships, and they are still some of the poorest areas of East London. Many of the students’ parents are only able to afford 50-150 rand per month towards their education. To put that into perspective, 12 rand is equal to one American dollar.
That is what makes Hope so special. It’s run almost entirely on student sponsorship and donations. The kids are given free uniforms, new socks and new underwear. They are fed three times a day, which is a luxury some of them know only at school. Seeing the shoes they wear and the holey backpacks they carry around would be enough to break anyone’s heart. And my heart did break when I heard some of their stories.
All the children at Hope School are either affected by or infected with HIV or AIDS. About 30% of the students have it, and the remaining have an immediate family member who is infected or has already passed away from the virus. As happy as they are, death is a normal thing for these kids. They have seen more in their short lifetimes than most of us ever will, but they are still filled with joy. Every day I received many hugs accompanied with shouts of “Auntie Kristen!” through little smiles missing multiple teeth. Whether they were missing because they fell out or infection you couldn’t be sure, but the cuteness factor was still the same.
Our first week at Hope we helped another team from New York run a holiday club for the kids. I worked with a boisterous bunch of second graders that quickly captured my heart. They eagerly plopped down right into my lap before they even knew my name. If they could sense my initial discomfort they didn’t care. They craved my smile, my glance, my closeness, my touch, and I was a complete stranger. It was clear that love and affection are not things commonly received at home. Even if my affection could only be temporary, I was happy to give it to show them even a little portion of the amount of love Jesus has for them.
Late one night I was talking with the Lord, and I asked him, “God, how can I show these kids how much You love them?” He told me to see them the way He sees them, to tell them who they are, and to love them the way that He does. Immediately I thought of Liyema, an 11-year-old girl from the grade five class I was tutoring the second half of the month. Her and I clicked immediately, and I couldn’t help but notice the way that she stood out from the other children. Contrary to her tough life, her heart was gentle and kind. She was quiet, but her smile was enough to light up the room.
At training camp for the World Race, we were told each month we are supposed to look for at least one person of peace, meaning one person who is ready and willing to receive the gospel. This month, that was Liyema. I wrote her a letter letting her know how much God sees in her, and she carried it with her in her pocket every day that week. We talked about her life. I asked her who her friends were, and she said that she didn’t have many friends at Hope School because when the kids tease her and she doesn’t like to tease them back. I told her that she already has Jesus in her heart, because He wouldn’t tease kids either. I told her that she always has a friend in Jesus. She said, “Yes, I talk to God sometimes but he never talks back to me.”
That was where the Lord showed me opportunity. “Liyema,” I said, “the Lord does talk to us, we just have to listen. Would you like to know how He speaks to me?” She nodded. “After I talk to God about my day I get quiet and listen. He will speak to me in my mind. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s Him, because I think it’s my own thoughts. But if you really listen, you will realize that the thoughts aren’t coming from you.” Her eyes widened as she took in my words. I challenged her to listen to God at night after she prays and let me know what He says.
There is a reason that Jesus tells us we should have faith like a child. The next Monday Liyema told me that she listened, and God told her that He would always be there to hear what she has to say. I asked her again the next day and she told me that the Lord told her she must always be honest even if something bad happens. I gave her a notebook and told her to write down everything God says to her, because it’s important that she remembers.
The more I thought about Liyema, the more the Lord showed me her potential. I knew He was asking me for more. I wondered how can I give her more when I am only here for a month? What can I do to make a lasting impact on her life? Then it struck me. Sponsor her. There is nothing more important for these kids than schooling. Poverty may take away their homes. AIDS may take away their parents, but nothing can take away their education. It’s the only ticket they may ever get to a better life.
Currently, I don’t have an income, so I contacted my parents and asked them if they would be interested in sponsoring her education. Praise and thanks all around, because the Lord answered my prayers! My parents generously accepted, so the Wise family is now sponsoring little Liyema’s education! (Thank you mom and dad!) I’m so thankful, because in some small way I am blessed enough to be a part of her life now and into the future.
I get to carry a little piece of Hope with me everywhere I go. I am so thankful for my time assisting at the school. I truly enjoyed my time spent with all the kids. I never thought I’d say it, but I’ve become a “kid person.” They have taught me more about God’s love and His joy than I would have ever learned on my own. They’ve shown me that happiness can exist in the midst of heartbreak. Here’s to hoping for a better future for them because of what happens at Hope School. Thankfully, I know how big God is. He is at work. He is alive.
