Guest Blog: Kristen Welch - Heroes Don't Always Wear Capes

Vincent

This was originally posted on the Compassion bloggers web site. It's a beautiful post about how much your sponsorship means to your sponsor child.

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I sat in a crowded, dank space and listened to the rain water dripping.

I squinted in the dark and leaned in to hear the quiet voice of Vincent, a sponsored child, living in the heart of Kenya, in the middle of Hell, known as Mathare Valley. He was an orphan, a child thrust into adulthood too soon, leading his family of siblings, alone.

He answered our questions with a kindness in his eyes, eyes that lit up when we asked about his sponsor. He said his sponsor’s name in a revered tone and told us words he’d memorized from his last letter. Someone in our group asked if he had a copy of a letter.

He sat on the edge of his couch/bed and reached behind the thin, tattered sheet that divided a small sleeping place and pulled out a much loved, worn letter from under his blanket. Vincent held the paper and grinned as he held up a picture of his sponsor, lightly touching the edges, pride evident on his face.

In that moment I realized the significance of sponsoring a child through Compassion International. Child sponsorship is a small part of our busy lives, but in many ways and circumstances, it is a child’s life. Without sponsorship and the concern and involvement of Compassion, Vincent, in his words, would probably be dead.

In my busy American life, child sponsorship was a dedicated $38 that I didn’t even miss. It was an occasional letter and maybe $10 for a birthday gift. Maybe. Sponsorship was something I did without thinking about every week or even every month. It was another thing, albeit good, that was on my long list. But I couldn’t help think how insignificant it had been to me: a few letters a year, little prayers whenever I remembered …

In many ways, child sponsorship was like an ending for me, something that made me feel good about myself, my contribution, a check off my list. But it is a beginning for a child, a new chance.

Seeing child sponsorship from both perspectives changed mine as I watched Vincent cherish his letter. It came alive to me in that tiny shack. In his soft voice he spoke sincere words I’ll never forget. They echo in my heart: “I pray for my sponsor. I pray for him every day.”

Vincent’s sponsor is a blessed man.

It was something we heard every time we asked a sponsored child about his or her sponsor. They would run and get their letters and say, “I pray for my sponsor.”

If sponsorship rescues a child from poverty, that makes a sponsor a hero.

It’s time I started acting like one.

A Letter from Our Sponsored Teacher in Kenya

Just received this letter from Kenya. It was from the teacher we sponsor at the Galilee School (see my blog post from Oct: http://teri-gonewalkabout.blogspot.com/2009/10/connect-with-teacher-from-kenya.html ).

It's such an easy way to make a difference...

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Dear Teri

I thank Almighty God who has granted me this chance to write to you this letter. I hope you are doing well together with your family.

First of all I am grateful for the support you are offering us and we trust in God to bless you and give you long life.

I am happy to let you know that our form four students of last year (2009) performed extremely well. We are proud because our school was one of the best school in our Division and we appreciate because you also contribute to its good performance. Our teachers are also dedicated and working tirelessly to see that the students perform well. We trust and believe that this year will be just marvelous.

We are heading to the end of the term. The students (1-3) are doing their end term exams while the form fours are preparing for their first mock exams.

Our music students have also started to rehearse this is because we will have music festival when we open for second term and just as always. God has hot deserted us we hope for the best.

Lastly, let Almighty God bless and guide you together with your family.


Be Blessed
Madam Eunice O.

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The below photos were taken in the school Eunice teaches at. The programs are working to improve the school. The first photo shows unimproved class rooms. The second shows new class rooms.

New Sponsor Child - Mairiamu thru Compassion

Last summer in the magazine Compassion sends to its child sponsors, there was an article about a boarding facility for Maasai girls who had run away to escape female circumcision and an early age (11 to 14 years old) marriage to a much older man. Not only that, these girls dreamed of being allowed to stay in school and maybe even have the chance to go to university.

If you would like to read the article, it will take you a few 'clicks' to get there but it's worth the effort. Go to: http://www.compassion.com/sponsordonor/compassionmagazine/default.htm On the left side of the page is a column. Click on "Compassion Magazine". When it expands, click on the Summer '09 edition. It's a PDF so it will take a moment to open. Once open, it is page 8 of the PDF file.

We had just ended our sponsorship of a Maasai girl with another organization due to some "discrepancies" in their operations. So when we read this article we knew we had found a way to help a young girl with an organization that we fully trust.

I called Compassion and requested to sponsor a girl at this place the girls call "the rescuing center". Apparently I was not the only one, as there were no girls needing sponsorship. So I requested to be put on a waiting list.

The other day I had a wonderful surprise when I opened my mail box! In it was a sponsorship packet for a girl from the school. And in a confirmation that this was indeed our new sponsor child... her birthday is the same day as my sweet little Hanna's birthday! (Different year, of course).

So I'd like to introduce you to Mairiamu (mah-ee ree ahmoo). She will be 12 years old in August. She has 5 siblings. Her favorite activities are volleyball and other ball games. Her school performance is above average. She regularly attends church and is in the choir.

I look forward to getting to know her!

Guest Blogger: Himself - “A Woman Named Grace”

Please enjoy this story my husband wrote about a happening during our trip to Kenya.


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Sometimes things happen that you can’t anticipate. This happened to Teri and me at a most unusual time—when we were broke down alongside a road. Actually, we weren’t even on a road; we were in the middle of nowhere in some semi-desert scrubland in the Rift Valley in Kenya on our way to see a Maasai child we sponsored thru Compassion International.



In the more remote places in Kenya, you don’t drive on a road—you just drive. And it usually isn’t you driving. You are driven by a Kenyan assigned to a vehicle who seems to know where he is going, at least in theory. Good thing he knew--I swear we passed the same anthill and wildebeest herd a dozen times! Driving along the bumpiest terrain I have ever been jostled along, we rode along in our Land Rover hanging on tight.

Too dry for mosquitoes, the land was prime for dust. No matter how clean you started out, you arrived at your destination dusty. Not that ‘your’ family would notice—they live literally...in the sticks. Their African huts were made of sticks, grasses, ashes and cow dung. (In some of the drier areas, you can’t even get mud...hence, sticky cow dung which helps hold things together.)

Moses

Besides our driver, we had a Compassion representative named Jim, and an older man named Moses who had been our driver to see another Maasai child from another organization. Though a native Kenyan, Moses was a city boy who had never been ‘out there’ seeing such stuff. He indicated he wanted to go—stating that ‘it was like being on vacation’ being out in the wilds at the bottom of the Rift Valley. All we had been requested to do was to pay his employer Moses’ daily wage of $7. We did.

Somewhere along all this we broke down. Great... Don’t recall just what went wrong but soon there were Kenyan butts sticking out from under the vehicle. All of them saying the Swahili word for, “Hmmm...” Not a good sign. Teri and I? We found us an acacia tree to sit under to get out of the sun. Once cooled off we would walk around looking at exotic rocks, plants, and things that slithered. Off in the distance we saw a small family settlement called a ‘boma’--an enclosed camp of Maasai natives and their animals—(Maasai families slept with some of their animals right in their hut.) From this boma we would occasionally see wide-eyed curious kids—but they mainly stayed hidden and would not come near us.

Running out of things to look at I fished out the soccer ball that we were to give our Maasai child, ‘Ntikoisa’. Compassion rep Jim was all for booting it around with me because one, soccer is a bigtime sport for these people, and two, he was as bored as I. A city boy also, he left fixing the vehicle to Moses and the driver, who were still going, “Hmmm...” Teri? She watched Jim and me for a moment...then her eyebrows started going up--which is ‘hmmm...’ for her. Why? Because nearly every bush on the ground had thorns. Informed by Teri that, ‘if ONE thorn punctures this brand new soccer ball, an American AND a Kenyan would be in trouble’; Jim looked between Teri and me. Recognizing the universal sign of ‘woman-with-hands-on-hips’ as trouble already arrived, the soccer ball was soon put up!

After awhile Teri noticed a Maasai woman who was slowly approaching our broken down Rover. She had being walking ‘back and forth’ for some time, finally stopping a good distance away—watching us intently. Teri had watched her just as intently. Then Teri waved. That was all it took and soon she and her infant son were over to visit. A short time earlier help had arrived from the nearest village and with the help also came the headmaster of the Compassion center. He soon found himself translating as these two woman from two different worlds...shared.

This Maasai lady explained that she had seen our crippled Land Rover and had felt helpless to do anything that could assist us. Initially seeing only men from the distance she was afraid to come closer. She then explained that she did the only thing she could—she prayed for us. However, when she saw Teri wave and realized there was a woman with the group, it was then alright for her to come over. Their talk continued on to families, children (including the baby she had strapped to her side), goats and husbands.

Too soon the village mechanic had the Rover fixed and it was time to move on. But before we left, this woman removed a beautiful beaded bracelet from her arm and, catching Teri by the hand, slipped it onto Teri’s arm with the words “remember me”. With the same words in return, Teri removed the bracelet she had put on that morning and gave it to her.

As the Rover chugged back to life, Teri quickly gave her an additional present for her husband... a red baseball cap. It was something he would proudly wear because he had been honored. As we drove off, this Maasai lady full of grace waved good-bye.

This woman’s name? Grace. A woman named Grace. Fitting.

Guest Blogger: Himself on Haiti

Himself writes a monthly column for his hometown newspaper. It's called "Rambling With 'D'". It's a bit of this and that, quite often observations he's made in his travels. In light of the January earthquake, his latest article is about something that he experienced when he was in Haiti years ago.

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“To Care a Little”

I’m sitting in my clinic on a ship anchored near the island of ‘Atka’—part of the Aleutian Island chain. Looking out my porthole I see a world of mountains, snow and water. Oh—and a tree. This island has one visible tree. (One LOST tree!) Though pleasant enough to look at, this scene is a world away from what I am used to.

To help deal with the isolation, wife Teri keeps me up on ‘news from back home’. Her daily emails mention everything from her latest home project to local town happenings to world events. With no radio, TV, or Internet, I don’t hear much from ‘outside’. We do have a small printout of ‘news’, but it mainly deals with sports and finances. Few details. No pictures. Concerning the small bit of world news in it, I have to get clarification from Teri to understand its significance...or its scope.

I was going to write ‘Part Two’ of Russia this month, but with another area of the world in the news and on people’s hearts, I will pause on Russia one month to write about a place closer to us, but in a way even further. Haiti. From what I have heard thru Teri, it dominated the news for weeks. As it should have. You have seen what I haven’t—TV news flashes & newspaper articles galore. I have a single picture from an old newspaper someone brought aboard that was already a week old when it arrived. I cut out a picture of an elderly male nurse from America comforting a young Haitian woman who needed comfort. The picture is priceless. It reminds me to...pray.

I mentioned Haiti being ‘closer to us, yet further’. That is a comparison to other countries I have visited. I didn’t think that was possible until I went there for a month in 1995 as part of the UN Peacekeepers. Up until then I had been in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East. I had see places that were poor—some because the actual available resources were scarce, and some because war had reduced the people’s very hearts to poverty. To almost no hope. (That is the worst type of poverty...) Haiti, though not in an actual war, was both. And ‘just a stone’s throw’ (so to speak), from our American shores. Until I went there, I didn’t know.

In the midst of tragedy seen on TV, yet another sad story isn’t what I have to share—but a story of comfort. And dignity. Of a Haitian woman who had little and was about to lose what little she had. Her name was Sonya, a 40-ish Haitian woman who was fortunate enough to get a job ‘as housekeeping’--cleaning our UN Peacekeeping tents & bathrooms daily. A thankless task in that sweltering heat, it was a job she did with efficiency & dignity. Finishing her daily tasks, she would give a quiet ‘thank you and goodbye’ before returning home that evening. Early next morning she started all over again. And at a rate of $7 per day, she was grateful.

I first noticed Sonya in a roundabout way. While working, I noticed she was ‘hiding something’ during her work—favoring her left arm. Turns out she had fallen two weeks earlier and cut her elbow. I didn’t notice at first because she covered up her injury for fear of losing her job. The military unit we replaced—in a hurry to leave--neglected to treat her. It got infected. Badly. By the time I noticed, losing her job was the lesser problem--I feared she would lose her arm below the joint. Being all Haitian workers had been ‘signed over’ to us from the other unit, I inquired what was to happen to her. I got the impression she would be released and another housekeeping woman brought in. Just like that.

It was incomprehensible to me that this could happen—to release an injured worker without even trying to help. To be ‘just left’ like that. What must she think? I admit I don’t understand the legalities, but there had to be something we could do for a worker who had so little, and nothing to fall back on. And now, knowing her name, Sonya wasn’t ‘just a worker’ anymore, she was...a person. A wife. A mom.

Without asking permission, I determined to treat her injury once a day. With no authorization for an anesthetic, I took a brush and scrubbed this deep wound while cringing. Sonya? She would occasionally wince, but outside of that, she was stone faced. Yet calm. I don’t know how she did it. But no matter—I scrubbed and scrapped and rinsed, giving her strong antibiotics at the end of each session while explaining things thru a translator. And I prayed.

Fearing the worst, in two weeks there was a remarkable turnaround--the deep wound seemed to clear and healing tissue started to fill in. By now Sonya’s hide had been punctured from injectable antibiotics and her diet included oral ones. Many bandages had been used--subtly, as this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Sonya, with impassive face, gazed off into the distance through it all.

Then I noticed a change. It was in her face. More—it was her eyes. As treatment came to an end, Sonya watched me wrap her elbow one last time, and then looked up to my face. In her eyes I saw...gratitude. It is like something else had been healed. Her faith. That someone noticed. That someone...cared.

Shortly after this I returned home to Tennessee. Before leaving I asked thru a translator if I could get my picture taken with Sonya. I found out Sonya’s English was better than she let on--at the mention of ‘photo’, Sonya’s hand whipped up to her head wrap as she exclaimed one word, “Oh!” Then I heard one other word—“Tomorrow!” Well, tomorrow came, and Sonya, even though it was her day off, showed up in the cleanest & whitest rough cotton dress you have ever seen. Her best. She also gave me a beautiful wooden mask her husband had carved. It was all she could give. She then stood next to me for our photo together—me smiling, she with that steady & dignified look of hers. But if you look carefully, you can see something else in her eyes.

Hope.

A Hero for Today: Hector Mendez

Just one of so very many heroes in Haiti right now.


Rescuer was woman's last hope in Haiti: 'We told her we won't leave'
By Moni Basu, CNN
January 28, 2010 8:13 p.m. EST


Port-au-Prince, Haiti (CNN) -- A sweet sadness blankets Hector Mendez's face, appropriate, perhaps, for a middle-age man who has seen suffering and miracles at once.

Many other rescuers have left the Haitian capital, no hope left in their hearts 15 long days after the massive earthquake that ravaged this country and entombed so many in the rubble.

But not Mendez.

Every day for more than a week, he has stepped down into the dark crevices of a destroyed building to look for two people: Daniel Varese and his 4-year-old son Mateo.

Mateo's mother, Marylinda Gonzalez Davi, a United Nations employee from Guatemala who has been living in Haiti for four years, was at work when the earth shook violently on January 12. Rescuers pulled her 1-year-old daughter Fabiana alive from the rubble, but there was no sign of her husband and son. She refused to believe they were dead.

Word of her plight reached Mendez, who had arrived in Port-au-Prince with a team of 25 Mexican rescue workers.

"We told her we won't leave. We will stay by her side," Mendez said. He has a grandchild the same age as Mateo.

His orange jumpsuit dulled by dust, Mendez and his crew made camp adjacent to the rubble of the landmark Hotel Montana. They slept out in the open, with Gonzalez and her friend. They took short naps to re-energize. Then they went back in to search.

Each day, they pulled things from the place that Gonzalez called home: a stuffed animal, her husband's computer, a piece of carpet. It helped Mendez to know what room of the apartment they had entered.

He kept moving, deeper and deeper. In search of smell. In search of the slightest sound. Of an infant's whimper, a man's weak cry for help.

Mendez became convinced father and son might be alive. He knows well the science of rescue after doing it for a quarter century.

"There is no smell," he said. And that could mean they were alive.

Even two weeks after the earth shook, people were being rescued. Each gave Gonzalez hope. And that propelled Mendez.

He believes in the power of love. The strong bonds between a man and his child, trapped together. That link, he thought, could be enough to sustain them.

A veteran of many disasters

After a killer earthquake struck his hometown of Mexico City in 1985, Mendez, 46, felt a need to give back the humanitarian gestures extended to his own people. He joined a team called the Topos, or moles, named so because the rescuers wriggled through the deepest darkest corners in search of life.

He volunteered to rush to disasters: to Indonesian quakes, five times; to Latin American countries; to Iran, Turkey, India and Egypt; to New Orleans, Louisiana, after Hurricane Katrina and to New York after the 2001 terror attacks.

Haiti, he said, is one of the worst situations he has seen. "People are very, very poor here." Much of the infrastructure and construction was so shoddy. This was the first time government officials paid for his flight. Usually, he finds his own way.

And that has left him penniless and jobless.

"Who will hire this old man now?" he asked. "People tell me I am mad."

He does the work because he loves to help people. "It's worth it to find one person alive."

Behind him, the incessant sound of a jackhammer deafened the ear. Above him, the roar of jets taking off from the airport. But it was below where Mendez belonged.

Time was ticking.

Sometimes, in the darkness, when he was crawling like a mole, the earth trembled. "Replica! Replica!" some of his men shouted. There was always the fear that whatever was left standing would tumble in the many aftershocks this city has felt.

"We laugh," he said. "We don't scream like ladies. There is nothing you can do inside. You only die once. It would be an honor to die in the rubble."

From other people, the statement might seem trite. But Mendez's eyes make you believe. He is called Chino because people say he looks Chinese. He says he has the look of a fierce Mexican Indian.

After so many days, Mendez was running on two hours sleep -- and hope. But late Wednesday his search finally ended. His men found two bodies buried deep in the apartment.

Mateo was in his father's arms.

In Haiti, Mendez had hoped for a miracle. Instead, he saw more suffering. This, too, will define the curves of his face.

Guest blog for church

I was asked to write a guest blog for my church about Haiti and why we should give to the aid relief.

Here's what I wrote:

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Haiti.

The name doesn't bring up the best images: corrupt government officials, riots, child slavery, voodoo, police brutality, gang violence, deforestation...

You know what? What you pictured in your mind's eye is right.

Maybe you wondering if you should make a donation and how much. Asking yourself why we should help by sending our hard earned money to a place that change comes slowly to. A place that, in all probability, in 10 years will look about like it did pre-earthquake.

Because when Jesus looks at Haiti, He sees something different. He sees Maxene, my sweet little Compassion writing buddy. He sees Sonya, a lady who works hard cleaning for the UN Peacekeepers. And yes, He sees the voodoo witch doctor and He sees the government official who took a bribe.

He sees His children.

Some will be with Him in Heaven and some are lost forever. And His heart breaks for all of them.

We are all now given an opportunity "to do our Father's work". By giving to an aid organization who comes in the name of Jesus, we have the gift of helping spread God's kingdom.

On Sunday the 17th, Grace will be taking a collection for Haiti relief. There will be a display with a donation basket at the Serve table. The donations will be sent to World Vision - who is listed as one of the top ten "most fiscally responsible charities".

Now is your chance.

Do it for Him.

Earthquake in Haiti

Folks, a 7.0 earthquake hit the capitol city of Haiti yesterday. The destruction will be unbelievable. If there was ever a place that needs a show of Jesus' love... it is here, it is NOW.

Franklin Graham is already on the move to get aid down there. http://www.samaritanspurse.org/ Please donate if you can. And pray.

Here is their news story.

>>>Catastrophic Quake Hits Haiti

Samaritan’s Purse sends team, resources to help disaster victims

Samaritan’s Purse is sending a disaster assistance team to Haiti after the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere was rocked by one of the strongest earthquakes to hit the Caribbean in decades.

Samaritan’s Purse dispatched a team just hours after the quake to help with water, shelter, medical care, and other emergency needs. We will focus on medical help, shelter, clean water, and hygiene supplies.

An initial shipment of emergency relief items including rolls of plastic shelter material, hygiene kits, and water purification kits are being loaded onto a DC-3 cargo plane to fly to Port Au Prince Wednesday.

Staff with Baptist Haiti Mission, our local partner, report severe damage throughout the area. Power is out, and there is no water.

The massive 7.0 magnitude earthquake was the strongest to hit the country in 200 years and was felt as far away as Cuba. The tremor sparked widespread panic as it brought down buildings including the presidential palace, hotels, a hospital, and the UN headquarters in the capital of Haiti, Port-au-Prince

“It's really a catastrophe of major proportions,” Haiti's ambassador to the United States, Raymond Alcide Joseph, told CNN.

Thousands of people gathered in public squares late into the night, singing hymns and weeping. Many gravely injured people sat in the streets, pleading for doctors.

The death toll was expected to climb into the hundreds, but no official figure has been released so far.

“Everybody is just totally, totally freaked out and shaken,” Henry Bahn, a U.S. Department of Agriculture official visiting Haiti told the Associated Press. “The sky is just gray with dust.”

The earthquake was centered about 10 miles west of Port-au-Prince, the U.S. Geological Survey said. The quake was felt in the Dominican Republic, which shares a border with Haiti on the island of Hispaniola. Some panicked residents in the capital of Santo Domingo fled from their shaking homes." <<<

Using One Word to Fight Your Personal Spiritual Poverty in 2010

An interesting blog from the Compassion blog sight.

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Using One Word to Fight Your Personal Spiritual Poverty in 2010
Written by: Chris Giovagnoni
Posted using ShareThis

Do you talk with God? Or do you talk at Him or to Him?

How much of your prayer life, your conversations with God, is about you? You talking. What you want or need. What you think should happen.

When you’re listening, are you interested in what’s on God’s mind? Or are you really just listening for God to talk about the subjects you choose?

I mostly talk at God. That’s a 99-percent most. God usually can’t get a word in edgewise in “our” conversations. I’m talking. And I’m talking about what I need and what I want, as if they are somehow different, and as if I know better than God what I need.

“Hey God. I’m not interested in that subject. Why do you keep bringing it up?”

But once a year, at the beginning of December, I make an extra effort to get over myself. I ask God, “What do you have planned for us next year?”

It’s like asking your father, “Hey, Dad! What are we going to do this weekend?”

2010 in One Word

So, even though I’m not your father, you should do this:

Ask the Holy Spirit what He has in store for you in 2010. Ask Him to give you a one-word theme for the upcoming year. Not a phrase, not a statement, just a single word.
That last sentence is more for you than for the Holy Spirit. He knows what’s going on.

But this is for you – One Word. It’s a document for you to download, written by Dan Britton, Senior Vice President of Ministry Programs for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.

One Word contains suggestions to help you make this “one word” thing a spiritual discipline rather than some nifty hoot of an idea that will quickly fade away like a worn out New Year’s resolution.

This practice of asking God for His yearly theme in my life gives me strength in the tough times. It renews my spirit, giving me a sense of purpose when I feel hopeless, annoyed, angry, afraid … anything but in control and confident.

It helps me stay connected with Christ and His plans for me throughout the year. Not perfectly, but definitely in times I probably would not.

Every year, with a little prayer time, I have found God eager to tell me what He has in store for me in the following year.

Remember this, and I can’t emphasize it enough, you’re not choosing a word. The Holy Spirit is giving it to you.

In 2009, the Holy Spirit laid the growth card on me. And when I told you about it last December, I said it sounded painful.

Well, 2009 wasn’t really painful. But it wasn’t easy either. I got to grow through a lot of old habits and immaturity.

And even though 2009 is almost over, the growth isn’t. The words the Holy Spirit shares with us each year establish the foundation for the words we get in the future, which means I’m going to be growing the rest of my life. Duh!

For me, 2009 was a year to begin getting beyond my “only child” behavior, which tells people the world revolves around me and they should wise up, stop resisting and get with the program.

It seems I’ve made a little progress, because for next year God’s word to me is:

SHINE

It sounds promising.

ICE: A Charlie Brown Christmas

Charlie Brown: I guess you were right, Linus. I shouldn't have picked this little tree. Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don't know what Christmas is all about.

Charlie Brown: Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?

Linus: Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you what Christmas is all about.

Linus: "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

Linus: That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

The Shoeboxes Begin Their Journey

Himself and I took the shoeboxes we collected from church over to the collection point today. Not bad for a first year – we had 53 boxes (plus some were taken over to the Chic FilA). I hope to triple that number next year!

While we were at the collection center dropping off the boxes, Best Friend and Pirate 1 showed up with their boxes. Pirate 1 jumped right in on helping process the shoeboxes. I bet he’ll be helping even more next year!

The display at church.

All of 53 of the boxes at the collection center, ready to be processed.

Pirate 1 helping with processing.

This is what it's about...

"Little Bird's Box" ready to go somewhere in the world.



"Little Red Truck"

Writing Buddies - Photo Update

Besides the sponsored kids, I have 6 "writing buddies" thru Compassion. For whatever reason, their sponsor don't write. So I (and others) get to fill the gap with these kids. Each month I send a letter talking about all sorts of things like upcoming holidays, places we visited on a trip, what I have been doing at church and so on. I try to find a coloring page that somehow relates to the letter. It's a lot of fun.

Alomgir from Bangladesh

Angel from Guatemala

Felix from Dominican Republic

Franklin from Boliva

Kevin from El Salvador

Merlyn from Peru

Sundar - sponsored thru Compassion

Since I’m writing about our sponsor kids, it’s time to tell you about Sundar.

In January-ish we lost our sponsor child from Ethiopia. At the same time, my favorite writing buddy lost his sponsor. Compassion called me to let me know and to ask if we would like to become his new sponsor. That was a quick “Yes!”.

Sundar lives in India. He is 8 years old and lives with his mother. His father is deceased. His mother’s occupation is listed a “Laborer – rice mill coolie”.

He likes to play group games including ball and hide-and-seek. He also enjoys reading.

Berita - sponsored thru Kenya's Kids in Need

And we have a second new child at Galilee school!

Berita is 10 years old and in Class 5. According to her report her best subject is also English (I’m looking forward to corresponding with these 2 new children!). She likes to play hide-and-seek. And when she grows up she wants to be a chef! Is that a match for me or what?!

She has a younger brother and 2 younger sisters.

Berita

Shadrack - sponsored thru Kenya's Kids In Need

Shadrack is our new sponsor child at Galilee school, replacing our child who left the program.

Shadrack is 11 years old and is in Class 5 (5th Grade). His report says his best subject is English, his hobby is soccer (is there any young man in Kenya who is not crazy over soccer?!) and when he grows up he would like to become a pilot. He has 3 older brothers.

We’re looking forward to seeing him in the new uniform we have purchased him and to see other changes that sponsorship brings about.

Shadrack

NOW it's a special day!

It’s no secret how much I despise Halloween and all of its ugliness. But now we have a reason to look forward to 31 October. It is the day we finish our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes ( http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/OCC/ ).

We pull out the container of items we’ve picked up thru the year and sort them into piles on the table. After all the months, we really don’t remember everything we have. I know there will be a good supply of school items – I get those during the back to school sales. Can’t beat .15c for a notebook or .25c for a ruler.

After we do an inventory of what we have, we head out for the evening. First stop is to the Dollar Tree and then to Wal-Mart. After our shopping is done we go out someplace nice for supper.

And then the best part… putting together our shoeboxes! We use plastic containers. The container is the first gift. We line the bottom with a towel. Since you can see thru the plastic this fabric is our “wrapping paper” and is the second gift. Then it’s time to STUFF the box. There are school supplies – notebooks, pencils, erasers, rulers, etc. This year I found backpacks on clearance for $1 each. Those took some tight rolling to compress them down! Always put hygiene items in – toothbrushes, combs, soap, tweezers, etc. Items to eat with – a plastic bowl & cup, and a spoon. And of course these are for children and there must be toys! Cars, balls, puzzles, a musical instrument, and a soft “lovie”. And this year we were able to put in 2 shirts and 2 pair of socks – given to us by people who know about our box packing. Sounds like a lot to fit in a large shoebox, doesn’t it? I am a master packer!

Oh… I forgot about the final gift. And according to Samaritan’s Purse, the most important gift. We enclose a Christmas card in which we write a note to the child and enclose a photo of us. We’ve been blessed to receive 3 letters over the years from children who have gotten one of our boxes. Jamaica, Philippians and India. And one year in the annual report newsletter, a photo showed one of our boxes being opened by a boy in Sudan. Wow!

Every year since we were told by the Operation Christmas Child region representative that the boxes they run out of first are the ones for boys 10 to 14 years old, we have done 6 boxes for that age range.

But this year we’ve added one more box. A box for a little girl in the youngest age range – 2 to 4 years old. This is in honor of our new niece Little Bird. We will keep doing this box. We are looking forward to next year scooping up this little sweetie and taking her shopping to fill that shoebox. As the years pass we will do shoeboxes that correspond to Little Bird’s age.

We’re looking forward to it…

The table loaded with goodies.

Items that went into the boy boxes.

Our honorary packer - Little Bird!

Items that went into "Little Bird's Box" (for a 2-4 year old girl).

"Little Bird's Box" finished.

Ivine from Kenya's Kids In Need

Here’s one of my new sponsor kids. We’re co-sponsoring Ivine through Kenya’s Kids In Need.

Ivine has had a rough go of it all her life, and the troubles in Kenya after the elections brought more grief into her life. In spite of terrible things, she is determined to finish her schooling and has moved into the orphans house on the Galilee school grounds.

She is a junior (Form 3) this year. Kenya schools run Jan – Dec, so she will be finishing up the school year soon. We and the co-sponsor will do our best to help her pass her exit exams this next year.

Ivine

Connect with a teacher from Kenya

The other day I was on Himself’s computer and didn’t have available the bookmark to the web site of Kenya’s Kids in Need – where we sponsor children. Too lazy to go to my own computer, I did a web search for Galilee school Kenya.

Found what I was looking for AND found another site. Hmmmmm… So of course I checked it out. It was for Plant a Book International http://sites.google.com/site/plantabook/ Through reading the history I found out this is the “parent” organization of the child sponsor program.

But this program focuses on getting books into schools. Wow. And one of the schools they are working with is Galilee school.

Then reading more, I found they have a teacher sponsorship program in place at Galilee school. Galilee is in the Kayole-Soweto slums of Nairobi. Galilee area is a small shining place in a black hole of despair. The teachers here aren’t paid what they could get in other areas, they teach here because they believe in the program. But the reality of life too often steps in and they must take another job with a higher salary so to provide for their family.

For just $15 a month, one can sponsor a teacher to that they receive this stipend to their salary. You can write your sponsored teacher letters to encourage them. You can send small packages to them. You also have the opportunity to help more by purchasing basic classroom supplies in the organization’s “on-line store”. This on-line store is grand!! You purchase and pay by PayPal for the items you select. Once a month the organization wires the total over to Kenya where the school director Fanuel purchases in Kenya – AT KENYAN PRICES – the items. (This on-line store (OLS) is also a part of the KKIN program and works wonderfully – I’ve used it many times.)

So Himself and I have sponsored Eunice. She teaches at the high school. Her classes are Christian Religious Education and Kiswahili. She is a graduate of Kenyatta University. Married, she has 3 children.

A sponsorship would be a wonderful gift for or by a teacher or a classroom here in the US. Please consider it – Christmas is coming…

Eunice

Please God, let us help in Africa!

Himself and I have been given a wonderful opportunity to support a native missionary in Tanzania. We have some new friends at our church – Ryan and Emily have founded an organization that equips local pastors to spread the Word in unreached areas. It's only $30 a month! Can you imagine?! That small amount can make such a huge difference.

Below is from Ryan and Emily:

Africa for Jesus ( http://www.africaforjesus.org/ ) is a Native Missionary sponsorship organization dedicated to reaching all unreached people in Africa. As AFJ assigns Native Missionaries to villages, sponsors keep them there by providing for their basic family needs.

Since 2002, AFJ has sent Native Missionaries to the most unreached places in Africa, planting hundreds of church fellowships in villages across Africa. Typically AFJ supports a missionary family for two to three years, depending on how long it takes for their newly founded churches to support them financially.

Your sponsorship dollars allow your missionary to live and work in an unreached village full time without the burden of working another job to provide for his family. Your support will pay for house rent, food, clothing and other basic needs.

Each day your missionary will do house-to-house evangelism, cell groups, pray for the sick, minister in surrounding villages and disciple new believers. On average, within one year he will have established a church fellowship.

Lazaro K.

Testimony: In 1969, a pastor began telling me about Jesus Christ. The following year, I accepted Jesus as my personal savior. After this, my father and mother separated. Life began to get harder and harder. The worse things got, the more I prayed.

One day I told God that if He is strong, I want to see salvation for my parents. They were deeply involved in magic and witchcraft. My father’s uncle was a witch doctor, as well as this man’s father. Every generation was the same. Even though things were bad, people could see that Jesus was with me.

I later joined the Army. Unfortunately, I began to sin more and more as the temptation grew stronger. I left the army seeking peace and to gain a closer walk with God. After I did this, I miraculously became a strong believer and was not afraid to preach the Gospel to everyone. I went to schools to learn the Bible more, so that God could use me more. Now my heart thirsts to do the work of God, wherever AFJ decides to send me.