Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Pedro

She Bought Him Shoes

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I knew it wouldn’t be an extravagant gift. After all, I’d only sent $20. And even in Bolivia, $20 doesn’t go very far. But still, I had envisioned something  fun.

A soccer ball to kick around in the dusty lot — the lot where he stands serious, arms by his side in the photograph that hangs on our fridge.

A box of 64 Crayolas, vibrant points row upon row, and a stack of crisp, unblemished coloring books.

A set of shiny Matchbox cars, primary colors popping bright against the dirt.

A brand-new, hard-cover book, Thomas the Tank Engine or Elmo in Spanish.

I’d pictured something that would light a smile on that somber face. A gift that would spark joy in those piercing brown eyes.

“Thank you very much for the birthday money,” his mother wrote in Spanish on Compassion letterhead a few weeks later. “I used it to buy Pedro a new pair of shoes.”

She bought him shoes for his fifth birthday.

I held her letter in my hand, reading her short note once, then twice, swallowing shame as I imagined my own children’s reaction to a single birthday gift, a gift of shoes. It would be unthinkable, of course. My children ask for iPods and scooters, Minecraft and Mario Bros. Shoes aren’t given as birthday gifts in our house. Shoes are a given.

I looked again at Pedro’s photograph on our refrigerator. Orange tee-shirt tucked into rumpled beige pants. Plastic pink crocks on his feet.

Plastic pink crocks on his feet.

Pedro’s mother’s bought him shoes for his fifth birthday. A soccer ball would have been fun. Sixty-four crayons and a stack of new coloring books would have been nice. But Pedro needed shoes.

 

September is Blog Month at Compassion International, and this week we were asked to write a response to this picture. I knew right away I would write about Pedro’s birthday shoes. For millions of kids around the world, shoes and other basic necessities like food, shelter, clothing and education are not a given, but a gift. Please consider giving that gift to a needy child. Sponsor a Compassion child or send a donation today. 

Because 223 Days Seems Like a Really Long Time to Wait

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Letters from Pedro and his sister


Dear God,

Remember when I laid awake the other night praying for Noah? I was worried about him, and I prayed for your help.

I thought about that this morning as I clicked through a dozen pictures of kids in need of sponsorships on the Compassion site. I stopped for a long time on the picture of one boy, Niyomugisha. He was wearing a yellow shirt, yellow shorts and sandals, and he stood on a patch of dirt near a wooden shack. The description said he lives in Rwanda and is one of six kids.
It also said he’s been waiting for a sponsor for 223 days.

223 days.

That seems like an awful long time to wait for a breath of hope.

I wonder what those 223 days have felt like for Niyomugisha’s mother. I wonder if she lays awake at night, praying that You will bring a sponsor for her child. Praying for hope. I wonder what she worries about. How to get enough food for her six kids? Where to find medicine for her sick little ones? How her husband will find work?

It makes my worries about my kids seem so silly. Our doctor is a phone call away. Medicine and food are less than a mile up the road – three minutes by car. I worry about problems that can be solved.
But Niyomugisha’s mother…does she worry about losing hope?

This morning as I looked at his picture on my computer screen, I prayed for Niyomugisha and his mother – that they will remain faithful and hopeful in You.

And today I ask that you bring Niyomugisha a sponsor. May this day be the end of his long wait.

Amen.
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Our assignment from Compassion for this week was to write a letter to God and publish it online, which, I admit, felt slightly awkward. 
The good news, though, is that as of Monday, 837 sponsorships have been made — isn’t that amazing?! So…three weeks remaining for Compassion Blogger Month and 2,271 sponsorships to go — I really do think we can do this thing!
Will you click over to the Compassion sponsor page, pick one child and pray for him or her?  
And if the Spirit so moves you, please consider sponsoring Niyomugisha or another child today. Thank you!!!


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I Complain about My Kitchen When 26,500 Kids Die Every Day

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“We have a small kitchen,” he noted, sitting on the counter, a plastic bowl of Cheez-Its in his lap.

“Actually, we don’t,” I answered. “Not really. Not compared to most people in the world.”

I chastised Noah, yet I knew he was only repeating what he’d heard from my own lips. I’d complained about a too-small kitchen, a too-small house before. More than once.

Later that night Noah stood next to me in his pajamas as I clicked through Ann Voskamp’s post about her trip with Compassion to Guatemala.I paused on an image of a kitchen.

“What do you think about that kitchen?” I asked Noah, pointing to the cinder block walls and the cement floor, the dingy sink with the tumble of plastic plates and the ramshackle cupboards with no doors.

“It doesn’t look very nice,” he admitted, his eyes glued to the computer screen.

“Why aren’t there any windows?” he wondered. “And what’s that blue stuff for?” He pointed to the plastic tarp pulled loosely over the gaps between the tin, a flimsy shield against wind and rain.

“How would you like to share a bedroom with six other people?” I asked him.

“I definitely wouldn’t want to share my room with Rowan,” he said quietly.

That night Noah and I talked for a long time about what we have. We talked about our home here in Nebraska – our newly remodeled kitchen with the six-burner gas stove and the stainless steel fridge; our two bathrooms; our goose feather pillows; our backyard patio with the striped umbrella and cozy seat cushions and fancy potted plants.


That was the night I decided to stop shopping for a year, and use the money I saved to sponsor a child through Compassion.

Twelve months later I clicked on Pedro’s picture on the Compassion site – five-year-old Pedro, who lives in Bolivia with his mother and five siblings. “How about this little guy?” I’d asked Noah and Brad, who were standing next to me.

Pedro Mae was the one.

Sponsoring Pedro has helped our family connect in a real way to people in need. It’s one thing to think vaguely about “doing something” (thinking vaguely: something I’m very good at), but it’s another thing entirely to connect a beautiful face and a very real person with a cause.
 
It’s one thing to know and be paralyzed by the fact that more than 26,500 kids die every day due to preventable causes related to poverty (statistics from The Hole in Our Gospel), but it’s another thing entirely to do something about it, even if it’s only a little something.

I know Pedro is only one boy in 26,500. And sometimes that feels insignificant. Small. Almost inconsequentially small.
 
But when we receive a letter from Pedro or his sister or his mother, we realize that to sponsor even just one child isn’t inconsequential at all. Because a child – even just one living, breathing, playing, laughing child living in desperate circumstances – is always significant.

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So here’s the real deal. September is Blog Month at Compassion, and their goal is to find sponsors for 3,081 kids around the world. You can sponsor one of these kids. For $38/month, you can decide to change a child’s life – a decision that will have beautiful, powerful, lifelong consequences.

Will you consider it? Click here for details.


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