This is a continuation of my ongoing series that highlights one person from each month’s ministry. For the rest of the series, click here.
Vathan
It’s a common yet unspoken rule among teachers: you are not supposed to have favorite students. You are supposed to teach and love the children equally. Almost all teachers know that certain children, through their love, burrow themselves in your heart in deep ways, even through your expectation of loving all of the children equally.
Our month in Cambodia was spent teaching English at a school about an hour outside of Phnom Penh. The day was split into three class sessions–morning, afternoon, and evening. It did not take long for me to fall in love with these children. I had a few favorites, but my heart favored one child in particular.
Vathan attended the afternoon session. During our first two weeks, the classroom that I helped teach/manage had forty six children, ranging from three to eight, maybe nine years old. This room was jokingly called “The Chaos Room.” A lot of our time was spent managing the classroom–getting the class to be quiet, telling the students to put their toys away, separating kids, placing rear ends in chairs, pulling kids into time-out, and giving high-five after high-five when the students displayed their knowledge on a certain topic (usually a letter of the alphabet). It wasn’t long before one boy stood out to me. He always was full of energy, moving and jumping around the classroom. For the most part, he was well-behaved–but he never stopped moving and was never tired. Cambodian children wear uniforms to school, unless you are Vathan. On the days when he wore his school uniform, he tucked his shirt in maybe two times the entire month (and those times all ended with his shirt coming untucked a few minutes later). There was an unspoken understanding that whatever Vathan wore to school any particular day was acceptable. I think the staff was just thankful that he was wearing a shirt. I know some kids from back home who are just like Vathan, in personality, in actions, and even in some regards, physical features. I know that these boys only wear a shirt when they absolutely have to, and I truly believe that Vathan has the same mentality.
Without getting to know Vathan, it would be easy to see his personality as a perfect fit for the classroom we were in: chaotic. Vathan does not have a chaotic, unmanageable personality–he has a personality overflowing with life. When the time came during our final week for our large class to be split into two classes, I chose to stay with Vathan. He knew that he had won a place in my heart. He sought after high-fives, helped keep his classmates in order simply because it was me who asked them, and made a heart in all of our photos together, instead of the typical Asian peace sign.
Vathan is intelligent, almost always completing his work before those around him. Once his work is done, he likes to draw. His favorite things to draw are a man riding a motorcycle with his hair blowing in the wind, as well as robots. His imagination is active. Vathan’s favorite part of the school day is recess. Being able to run around unhindered does his mind, body, and soul well. As much as he loves running, there is one part of recess that he enjoys even more and cannot wait to do–jumping and leaping as we lift them into the air.
Almost every day, Vathan’s hand found its way into mine as recess started. He would talk to me in Khmer and jump up and down as we walked to the door. I don’t need to know Khmer to know what he was asking of me. “It’s time to jump, can we jump now?” Squeals of joy would escape from his mouth as he took flight into the air time and time again. The joy on his face could have lit up the darkest room in no time. No matter how tired my arms were or how much sweat was dripping off of me, if he asked to jump, I helped him jump, excited as he was for each journey into the air. If Jesus had been in that schoolyard in bodily form, He would have always said yes to more jumping. I made it my goal to love the kids–especially Vathan–by adopting the same mentality.
Aside from the language barrier, one major thing separates Vathan and myself, and it is this that breaks my heart. Vathan’s wrist has a red string wrapped around it, a common sign of Buddhism in Cambodia. Cambodia is a Buddhist nation; only about two to three percent of the population are Christian. My team was able to share the Gospel to all of the students at the school at the end of our month. In a perfect story, I would be able to say that Vathan heard the Gospel and chose to accept Jesus as His Savior right then and there. Life does not always work out the way we want it to. To my knowledge, Vathan has not chosen Christ over Buddhism. At this point, all that I can do is continue praying for him. I am not there anymore to show him the love of Christ every day at recess. The chances of me seeing Vathan again are very slim. I know that the Word of the Lord does not return to Him void and it will accomplish the purposes for which it was sent out. It is with this confidence that I have entrusted Vathan to the care of Jesus. I hope to one day see him in Heaven, and you can bet that I will be the first in line (after God) to help him leap into the air again.
