Today was the first time I’ve
witnessed poverty to the extreme.
pleasure of trekking on a Tuesday outreach with Children’s Garden to an
underpass/land fill where street kids live. This bridge was just 500m from a
large SM mall. These children and families live dirty 24/7 save a swim in the
dirty river when they get the chance. They scavenge on the trash, searching for
useful things or items they can salvage. And yes, it smelled like burning
trash.
particularly drawn to one. He was wearing a red shirt, red shorts, and his ears
kind of stuck out from his head a bit. He was clean as if he had just returned
from the river. He had a smile as big as
the universe.
He exhibited a love to
play, laugh, piggyback on our boys’ backs, and play fight with the other young
boys.
However, while one of the
Children’s Garden volunteers was passing out snacks, I heard them mention that
one of the boys was mute. “Which one?”, I questioned, and she quickly
pointed to the young boy with the red shirt. My heart sank. It wasn’t just a language barrier, he
really couldn’t tell us his name.
I can’t wait until we
return next week to play with these kids. I want to know his name and I pray
for a miracle. My God-size prayer is that he will be able to utter more than
sounds and laugh, but to utter words. We come to speak life,
and I come to witness him speak anything.
Please help us pray for a
miracle for this mute bundle of joy.
