The charcoal factory children

As we walked up the hill by the charcoal factory, the burning smell choked us and we started coughing, looking around for a place where the smell might not be so bad, where the smoke wouldn’t get caught in our throats.

For several minutes, all I could do was stand and watch. Children were racing to line up, some with bags and some with bowls. Carly caught a child up in her arms. Moriah held a tiny baby. Jake blessed the food and started serving the soup. Someone asked me to untie the knot in a dirty bag that a child hoped to use for his food. Children lined up, one after another, some with younger siblings in their arms, most with some sort of skin disease, all covered in dirt or soot.

All lined up for what?

One meal of soup and half an egg.

I wish I could accurately portray what we saw that day, what we will see each time we go up to the charcoal factory. But words can’t describe it. Pictures may be worth a thousand words, but a thousand words isn’t nearly enough.

The thought kept running through my mind, “This isn’t fair! We have to do something about this. This is so wrong. What can we do?”

As we walked away, children following after us, grabbing onto us and wanting us to stay, I was frustrated and angry. I so wanted to help these children, to give them everything they need.

While I can't provide everything they need, I can pray for them. And I can love them. And I can serve them.

If you would be interested in sponsoring a feeding ($40), please e-mail me or use the "Contact Me" button on the left-hand side and I will get back to you with details!