Smoke and pollution are thick in the air. There are no quiet moments on this street corner. A constant level of noise is always present. Jeepney horns are going wild. Their barkers and conductors are calling out their destinations to people standing around. Under an overpass, children are laughing and running around. Young adults are grouped together, talking and listening to music, watching the traffic and people pass by.
There are the more somber sights around as well. In a small nook where the overpass meets the ground, a woman lights a coal stove next to a make shift bed. There are children running around whose eyes are blood shot from huffing glue to numb their mind to the world. Young adults are talking in groups, wasted on drugs or alcohol, in some cases, both. Girls as young as twelve (in reality, probably even younger) are dressed in revealing clothes, and each hold stories of their bodies being sold for a price.
And there I was. Standing on a side street, a darkened alley next to a busy street, surrounded by street kids. Surrounded by hearts that just long to be loved. Children who beg on the roads, adults that are caught in prostitution, and youth that are just trying to find their place in the world.
Wednesday night, we took a group of people down to this alley to bring hope and love to these people. To the least of these. We brought food, water, balloons, paper and crayons. Though it was a simple set up, you can tell how much of a difference it makes.
I found myself sitting on the curb of the street, a little boy fast asleep in my arms.
When we first arrived, he came up to our group, I gave him a few high fives. He said his name was Saul, and that he was twelve years old. He looked like he was only nine or ten years old. His eyes were blood shot, and I could smell the glue on his breath. It broke my heart.
Saul went and played for a little while, toting around his own balloon animal and hat with pride. Then, he came up next to me, and put his arm around me. I picked him up and swung him around. He buried his face in my neck, and gave me a huge hug. I hung on to him for a few moments, and then we went and sat on the curb.
We watched the other children run around, playing with their balloon swords, laughing and jumping, being chased around with joy. Saul's eyes were glazed over, and I could tell exhaustion was taking over his body. Silently, I put my arm around him, and he laid across my lap, and instantly fell asleep.
I sat there, with this little boy in my lap for about fifteen minutes. It was all I could do to keep myself from crying there on the curb in Manila. This precious boy, a son of God, was asleep in my arms. Who were his parents, why didn't they care about him? What brought him to the street? Who gave him the glue to huff to numb the world? Why is he forgotten?
I woke Saul up after those fifteen minutes because their dinner was ready. He was too tired to walk over to the truck, so I carried him over, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, face buried in my hair again. He ate some porridge, drank some water, and fell asleep again.
His arms and legs would twitch every once in a while, his breathing still steady. I pushed his sweaty hair away from his face and forehead, and once again fought back the tears.
I realized that sometimes, this is what the kingdom looks like.
Kids running around with colorful balloon animals in their hands instead of rags, glue bottles and change cans. Older “kids” coloring Christmas pictures on the curb instead of pushing drugs and soliciting customers for the night.
And sometimes, the kingdom of heaven looks like letting a twelve year old street boy who has been sniffing glue fall asleep in your lap. Giving him a hug because he is a person. He is loved. He is special. He has a purpose in life, and needs reminded that he has dignity.
A hug needs no translation- no major thought. But it could mean the world to a child who is constantly pushed away, abused and neglected.
So last night, I brought the kingdom to Saul as he slept in my arms on the streets of Manila.
Abba, please don't ever let me forget Saul. Don't let me forget the lessons he taught me. Let me bring the kingdom in big and small ways. Let me love your children, young and old. They are all yours, and they all need your love.
