Arriving at the foundation’s compound, Moses stopped the group at the entrance. “The children should be at recess about now, out on the playground. We’ll go straight there, unless you need to have something to eat and drink first.”
"Speaking for myself,” Hank said, glancing at Trevor and the others, “I’d like to go straight to Andera. But if you chaps are hungry, I can wait.”
Trevor laughed. “I think we can wait for a few more minutes, Hank. And I’m dying to meet your new adopted boy.”
Moses led the group quickly through the building to the playground. More than a hundred children were running, throwing balls, playing, singing and climbing all over the playground equipment.
As Hank scanned the scene for Andera, Trevor turned to Moses. “Are these children all orphans?”
Moses nodded. “Many came from the same kind of situation as Andera – families killed in civil unrest. Others were abandoned by families who could no longer afford to care for them. And another sizeable group had parents who died from diseases like AIDS.”
Trevor stared at the children in silence.
“So here at the foundation, we provide housing, education, medical and dental care until the child reaches 12 or 13. If a family has not stepped forward to take a child by that time, we actively seek one, here in Kenya or elsewhere.”
“And for the few for whom no family can be found,” Hank added, “Moses and Florence find ways to take care of them themselves.”
“God provides the means, Hank,” Moses said.
“And sometimes that means is named Moses and Florence,” Hank said, still scanning the playground. “I saw what you did this summer.”
Then he saw him. Six-year-old Andera was standing to the side, watching a game of what looked like a short form of soccer. Or whatever the game is, thought Hank, it uses a soccer ball. One boy kicked the ball, and it landed next to Andera, who scooped it up and began to bounce it from knee to knee as Hank had taught him.
Moses smiled at Hank. “A son will learn many, many things from his father.”
At that moment, Andera bounced the ball back to the playing group, and caught sight of the group of men watching from the back veranda. The boy froze as he saw Hank. Then he began to walk quickly, and broke into a run as Hank began to run to him. They both stopped, and stood face to face, as many of the other children recognized Hank and all of them watched.
Hank, still in his business suit, fell to his knees in the dust and opened his arms, and Andera hurled himself into them.
“That, my friends,” said Moses, “is but a tiny glimpse of how our heavenly father will welcome us home one day.”
To read other posts in the One-Word Blog Carnival on joy, visit Bridget Chumbley’s place.
What a wonder filled day that will be.
The wonder is in the joy lived here on earth and expressed so beautifully in your story.
What a beautiful picture of Joy ... :-)
What a joyous moment that will be. Beautiful post, Glynn.
This story painted a beautiful picture of Joy. Thanks for sharing!
wow. beautiful indeed!
Powerful expression of joy...thanks for sharing this bro'
Very Beautiful, Glynn.
Hank is very blessed to have found a son.
You score big with this one. Beautiful post.
A sweet reminder at just the right time Gynn. I especially liked your words, "Hank, still in his business suit, fell to his knees in the dust and opened his arms, and Andera hurled himself into them." It brought back some memories from my own life experiences :)!
Something everyone needs...a father. Something we all have in Him. You reminded me of that.
This gave me chills.
What a beautiful picture you painted.
Absolutely! And we're a bunch of orphans ourselves, adopted by the King. Beautiful story.
Glynn - So, where is that novel you are supposed to be publishing? This is great, great story-telling.
Six years ago, in Soroti, Uganda, I was interviewing kids at a camp where kids had either escaped or been rescued from the LRA rebels. The amazing part -- some of them were smiling. Once they decided to use me as the "keep away" person and tossed an old trashy volleyball around, with me doing my best to grab it... the weather was in the low hundreds and normally I would have been hiding in the shade. It was so much fun to be involved with these kids -- who were exhibiting joy -- that it was one of the most joyful experiences I had in that intense and buried-in-sadness location. Isn't it amazing how the Lord opens doors so suddenly and beautifully? Your story reminded me of that event and I was sitting here grinning.
Post a Comment