What would stir YOU to jump for joy?
A sweet, new car with leather interior? Meeting the guy or gal that’s a perfect match to your quirkiness? Winning a lottery worth millions? Donald Trump with a new hairstyle?

Or what about… two lollipops?

8 days into a short-term mission trip to Nairobi, Kenya (August, 2010), my group visited a boarding school for children from the Mathare Valley – the oldest slum in the world. With us we brought several bags of lollipops to hand out to the children. We had enough for one per child, yet somehow one little girl ended up with two lollipops. Though it was a mistake on our part… it was, by far, the best moment of my entire year – and perhaps one of the most joyful and transformational moments of my life. 

 

 

 

 
Wrapped up in an intense moment of pure delight – gripping ontotwo lollipops – this little girl ran around, joyously leaping into the air. As I fired off shots with my camera, I stood in awe of her excitement, feeling fortunate to witness such a beautiful and bold expression of joy.
 
I was amazed by the profound impact of such a simple – yet perhaps divinely-orchestrated – “mistake”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reveling in the delight of her lollipop excitement, I couldn’t help but envy her a bit as I thought, “I have so much compared to this little girl who’s clothed in a tattered and stained yellow dress and muddy, canvas shoes, and yet I can’t recall the last time I literally leaped with joy.” Then it hit me….

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was the problem; I was my very own killjoy. In America, we’re so accustomed to our wealth (yet so ignorant of the reality of our ridiculously wealthy status in comparison to the world around us) that a lollipop is nearly worthless (sentimentally and materially), and even a nice car, a 3-4-bedroom home and an iphone are drenched in a sense of entitlement. These things are mere expectations for us, and we’re culturally impeded because we’re saturated with so much material wealth.  In stark contrast, over 75% of the world’s population couldn’t even afford to buy two lollipops on any given day. Though it seems counter-intuitive, our saturation of wealth is exactly what hinders us from experiencing the kind of joy that compels repeated leaps in the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was in that moment that I realized just how ungrateful I had been despite being so amazingly blessed. It made me reflect on what it would be like to be this little girl who owns nearly nothing. What would it be like to be a child growing up in the slums of Africa? What would it be like to be a single mother in the Mathare Valley, struggling to feed and care for that child? What would it be like to get that excited over things I take for granted every day?
 
And what would it be like if I actually appreciated all life has to offer – big and small – with the level of zeal that this child has?
 
Every time I look at this series of photographs — of the little girl in the yellow, tattered dress leaping in delight, I’m taken back to a breathtaking moment when I was transformed. A moment when the world and even God began to make more sense; a moment when life became simpler…. and more freeing! While I still may not jump up and down over two lollipops (unless they’re Chupa Chups ;),that moment has forever changed me: now valuing the pursuit of material goods less and appreciating all that I have exponentially more. My lot in life has grown smaller, but my joy and gratitude have increased tenfold.
 
All that it took was two lollipops… and one little girl who showed me how to boldly delight in life’s simple gifts.