I know it’s a little late to be writing a Christmas blog, but this one’s just too good NOT to share. I’ve had it in mind for a while but never got around to writing it until now. Hope you enjoy!
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When I close my eyes and think of Christmas, I imagine my family and I sitting around the table stuffing our faces with Mom’s exquisitely prepared Christmas Eve dinner, while exchanging clues with one another to try and guess what our Christmas presents will be. Then I vividly see my siblings and I baking cookies for Santa and strategically setting his place at the table to dine after we’re fast asleep. We then cuddle up under the blankets with Mom and Dad to read The Nutcracker and Piper The Mouse before they tuck us into bed and kiss us goodnight.
When the clock strikes 6am I am suddenly awakened by my excited siblings who drag me out of bed to see what Santa brought us. Mom and Dad usually decide to join the party at around 7:30 am and the stockings are opened one by one. Once we start getting hungry we sing happy birthday to Jesus and blow out the candles that are beautifully arranged on the steaming hot cream cheese pastry. The rest of the day is filled with gift opening, happiness, laughter, exciting arrival of the grandparents, and making memories. I have to say that Christmas is my most favorite holiday of all.
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My family is huge on keeping tradition and so this is all I’ve ever known. But this past Christmas broke the chain. Not only was Christmas a little different for me; it was completely different. Not only was I away from home, but I was out of the country, and not only was I out of the country, but I spent Christmas Day with four foster children who lived at our foster daycare ministry center (Columnas Del Fuego) in Costa Rica. These precious kids [Alvin (10), Jason (9), Jefferson (6), and Genesis (4)] were rescued by the government from their drug addicted and abusive parents and placed in this home where they have practically lived as orphans for three years.
My team and I stayed at Columnas del Fuego for ten days and literally did life with these people. There was never a particular agenda and so it really just felt like we were living in someone’s house and experiencing the things they do on a day-to-day basis. And not just experiencing it, but partaking in it! We loved them, poured into them, and (Lord willing) left an eternal impact on their lives.
During our stay I got to witness each one of my teammate’s specific gifts being used in specific ways to advance the kingdom. All of us are starkly different yet when we come together, we always efficiently get the job done because our gifts effectively balance each other out. For me, this meant being the official translator. You heard me right: the official translator. What! I don’t even speak Spanish fluently! (One day, one day…). But seriously, when we got to this ministry, we quickly found out that nobody spoke a darn word of English and I’m the most fluent speaker on our team so yeh….the Lord very quickly revealed MY purpose to me for being there! I also created a special bond with the kids’ caretaker, Marigele, who terribly needed a break from the kids as well as the attention and love from a friend her age.
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Christmas Day wasn’t much different than any other day. We loved, used our unique gifts, and loved some more. I’ve grown up hearing how blessed I am to live in the States and experience the kind of Christmas that I experience every year because there are millions of kids in the world who are less fortunate and etc, etc, etc. Well for the first time, I got to witness this reality in real time and it broke my heart. In my heart of hearts, I’ve always wanted to do something to make Christmas for a less-fortunate child more special but never found a tangible opportunity to do so. Well this time, not only was the desire there, but the opportunity stared me right in the face! Of course I couldn’t give them a perfect Christmas no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t buy them expensive things, and I certainly couldn’t bring their parents back; but I could love them, and so that’s exactly what I did.
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My favorite memory of Christmas Day was making a pink creamy juice with the kids. I have no idea what it’s called but it’s some sort of Central American drink made from red syrup, powdered milk, and water. I’m not a huge fan but apparently it’s a huge hit (and an acquired taste I suppose?). You should have seen how much these kids put down. Good heavens! Well enough on my rant and back to the story….
The kids came up to me while I was in the kitchen cleaning up from lunch and repeated a question probably a dozen times while jumping up and down in excitement and tugging on my shirt. Unable to understand their very incoherent request, I stood there clueless, begging them to slow down and explain themselves. Seeing that I still didn’t understand, they began to hurriedly gather strange ingredients until I finally realized that they were asking me to make them this bizarre pink drink for them! As I added a little bit of this and a little bit of that, they gently told me “when” until their creamy concoction was just right. They guzzled down their first glass before I had time to say “pura vida” and were begging for more, pink mustaches and all.
Seconds later I noticed them pouring yet another glass and I’m thinking “good night how much are these kids gonna drink?” Then Alvin held the glass up to my face and said, “¡esto es para ti! The kids, in all their excitement, had thought to pour me a glass of their favorite drink so I could partake in their joy with them.
As small as this might seem, it was actually a huge moment of realization for me: these kids who hardly received anything for Christmas, who know nothing of fancy, fun traditions, and who don’t even have loving parents to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight on Christmas Eve—these kids showed more gratitude for a couple glasses of pink milk than most kids in the States show upon receiving their number one item on their Christmas wish list. It was actually insane. It encouraged me because it goes to show that the joy in Christmas really isn’t found in the stuff and that it still is possible for a less fortunate child to have just as special of a Christmas as any other child who is well-off—just in a different and unique way.
I’d say that that was a Christmas well spent. A Christmas at which I finally got to step outside of normal family tradition (as hard as that was) and step into the shoes of a less fortunate kid in need of some love and a glass (or two or three:) of pink milk.
Here are some pictures attached below. They’re not from Christmas but thought you might want to see a snapshot of the ministry and the kids’ faces!
-Sam
