On Thanksgiving morning, Alexa, Ashley, and I met up with our host/translator Masre to meet some street people. The previous night, we had purchased 20 rolls, and we now toted them around in Ashley’s laundry bag, eager to give them away. I felt excited as we set out, anticipating the joy we would experience by showing God’s love to “the least of these.”
We crossed the busy street, walked under the overpass, and crossed a second busy street before descending the stairs to talk to a man who we pass on the way to ministry nearly every day. He is blind, and stands at the bottom of the stairs chanting his request for people’s spare change. He told us his name and Alexa took the lead as we chatted with him for a few minutes. When we offered him bread, he refused because he is fasting. When we asked him if we could pray for him, he politely declined. Many Orthodox Christians here find it odd to pray outside of church, and many also don’t believe in praying directly to God.
We said our goodbyes and continued down the street. Next, we came to an older man sitting on the side of the road. He wore dirty glasses and some filthy rags. As we talked with him, we learned that he struggles with pain in his joints, and he also told us he needed clothes. Masre promised to bring him some clothes, and I told him that God loves him and hasn’t forgotten him. Then I cleaned his glasses, because I know what it’s like to not be able to see clearly. He also accepted some bread.
We crossed the street to a sidewalk-like area, where many people were sitting and begging. We talked to a few women, some with children. One woman didn’t speak Amharic or English so we couldn’t really get her story. One woman sat with her two children, bundled in an Ethiopian Airlines blanket. Another man demonstrated how he uses some trash he’s put together to help himself scoot around, because he can’t walk. Masre befriended two street boys in their young teens and found out where they live, so he can talk to Ermias (see previous blog) about them. One woman sat on plastic wrap under her umbrella with her twin girls, nearly a year old, napping under a blanket. As we talked to the people, getting down to their eye level, onlookers stopped and stared. Well, I’m sure we were a strange sight.
Masre suggested we walk to Bole, a less busy section of the city. So we walked in that direction with the remainder of our bread. As we walked, it seemed that there were less people on the street than usual. But then we met Lemlem.
She was a beautiful grandmotherly lady, sitting on the sidewalk with her back against the fence, her cane propped up beside her. Her sweetness shone through her eyes. She had been hungry that morning, and the Lord had told her to go to that area, an area far from her home. We gave her bread and sat with her and talked. She is our Ayat now, our Ethiopian grandmother.
Not far from Lemlem, a shoe-shine man sat waiting for a customer. We first walked past him, but he said something in Amharic that compelled Masre to turn around and go back. We three sat and stood around as the man, a devout, peace-loving Muslim, cleaned Masre’s shoes and conversed with him. He asked us to pray for blessings for him. We all sat/stood with heads bowed and eyes closed on the sidewalk as Ashley prayed.
Next, we came to a bridge. There were eight people begging on the bridge. The first was a shy, quiet woman, sitting under an umbrella, wrapped in layers of fabric. We gave her bread and she quickly stored it under the outermost layer of fabric.
The second woman was named Hamlet. She had draped two pieces of fabric over the metal fencing that edged the bridge and sat on a large piece of cardboard with a child’s pink umbrella beside her. She told us she is 21 years old, nine months pregnant with her first child, and that her husband had abandoned her at the beginning of her pregnancy. He just disappeared one day. When Hamlet called his employer, they informed her that he had left. Hamlet is from the countryside and has no family nearby, no friends to stand by her when she goes into labor. When we learned this, we devised a plan for Hamlet to call Masre when she goes into labor, and if we are still here, we will go to be with her. We gave her money and food, prayed with her, and moved forward.
Next, Ashely, Alexa, and I shook hands and said “salamno” to a rather cheerful old man who was very grateful to receive some bread. We think he was telling us he was from Italy, but he looked Ethiopian to me!
Next, we came to a younger man who was lame. We smiled, gave him some bread, and did our best to chat a bit. After the young man, there was a young woman with a gorgeous little baby, who was probably about 16 months old. We talked to the woman for a few minutes, leaving behind some bread and a few birr.
The last people we came to were an old man and a younger man who live together, and an old woman who we motioned to join us. We gave them the last of the bread and also some water. Masre talked to the old man for a long time, and he asked if we had any medicine for stomach pains. Masre told him he should go to a clinic. He learned that the man owns a farm in the countryside, but comes to the city to beg at certain times of year.
We’d given away all the bread and made some new friends. Our next mission was to make our way towards the guest house, where we were meeting Jen, Hannah, and some other squadmates to celebrate Thanksgiving. As we walked, I shared with Masre about what our squad coach Eileen taught us – about the and, not the but. “People always ask, why is there suffering in the world if God is good? They think, God is good, BUT there is all this pain and suffering. What we need to realize is that yes, there is suffering in the world, AND God is still good.”
“We can’t deny the goodness of God,” Masre agreed.
But, it still isn’t fair.
After making a brief side trip for ice cream, Ashely, Alexa, and I arrived at the guest house to find Thanksgiving preparations in full swing. Led by Jen and Jocelyn, Team Shekinah Glory (plus Jen) had been cooking for hours. Highlights of the celebration included making a handprint turkey, praise and worship led by John and Andrea, playing a couple of rounds of Dutch Blitz with Megan, Rachel, and Masre, and of course eating our delicious feast! We had chicken, corn, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, macaroni and cheese, apple pie, banana bread muffins, and arroz con leche! We had a ton of food and a lot of leftovers, which Shekinah Glory planned to take to the poor people they work with who live on the mountains.
I know there’s a bit of a disparity going on here. How could I spend all morning getting up close and personal with some of the poorest, most vulnerable people in the city, and then turn around and eat a grand feast without even feeling guilty about it?
I think it has to do with being able to accept blessings from God. If you have physical blessings, if you have material objects that make your life easier and more enjoyable, then that’s great! But remember, the lesson of Thanksgiving is to give thanks where it is due. You and I have those material objects because God gave them to us, not because we did anything to earn or deserve them. So God gets the glory, and we don’t get to gloat.
The other lesson I learned from this unconventional Thanksgiving is that there’s an easy way to humanize people, and that’s by simply talking to them and taking the time to listen. It was actually less awkward to talk to the street people than it is to walk past them and try to give them a smile. Here, of course, there’s the language barrier that prevents us from always being able to talk to people without a translator. But I hope when I get home, where people speak English, that I will remember and apply this lesson. I hope Jesus will keep giving me opportunities to be his hands and feet, and to see his face on the faces of strangers.
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It’s hard to believe we’re almost in month 4, but we will be leaving for India this Friday! India is “All Squad Month,” which means our entire squad will be living and doing ministry together, in some form. Please keep my squad in your prayers for safe travel. Also please pray for my squadmates Rachel and Morgan, who were sent back to the US to finish recovering from severe cases of malaria. They should be rejoining us in India!
