My New Son

This is my new son. He lives in Uganda. He's only 8 years old and is the oldest of seven. I don't think he has a father. His family lives on about $5 a month, when his mother can work as a laborer.

We think we have problems.

Truthfully, I get tired of all the requests for help. There isn't a day that goes by that someone doesn't call here asking for money. I'm totally sick of political parties of any kind asking me for anything. As far as I am concerned they can all get fired.

It's different sometimes when you meet someone in real life.

At the conference this weekend, we heard a man from Kenya who was saved by someone who gave to him through Compassion International. When this man was 8 years old he watched his little 8 month old baby sister die of starvation. His mothers diet was too poor to make breast milk. He was so frightened that he began to eat from dumpsters after that. Then he pulled out the letter he received from his friend in Canada. A man who wrote to him and gave him hope. He lived, he graduated from college and now he helps other people in his country. He has never let go of that first letter.

I was crying. I was thinking of how selfish I really am. I don't do without anything. Really, I don't know the first thing about giving sacrificially. Giving something that costs me something. I give from my excess. I am disgusted with my apathetic American self. The part of this program that appealed to me is that this is no quick fix. This is not about give your little gift and go away. It's adoption. It's writing to a child, and staying with them for about 10 to 20 years. It's about letting someone who feels hopeless know they have worth.


A lot of ladies that day were picking up folders of the children. It would have been great if every child would have found a sponsor that day, but they didn't.  As I looked at the table and saw the faces, lots of really cute ones; I prayed,

and I saw him. Barely a smile, burdened shoulders, wearing a girls nightie. See the sticker? That means it has already been 6 months of waiting for help. He lives in an HIV affected area. I felt that pull on my heart that said. "This one, he is your new son."

I never had a son. When I was a little girl I used to entertain myself by writing out long lists of names. First names and middle names of both boys and girls; because I was going to have LOTS of babies when I grew up.  When I grew up, I had one baby. I never used birth control ever, I only had one baby.

I thought about my new son's name Isaac. Abraham had Isaac in his old age. I am not 100 but I will be a senior citizen this year. I wrote to my son, his birthday is next month. I sent him a card and a little extra for a present. Maybe he can get some boys clothes or get something for his family. I hope more than anything that what he receives this year is the knowledge that he is worth saving. I hope to see a big smile and some pretty white teeth!

I wish I felt better. I keep thinking about all the other times these people have asked and I said no. One time Kayla came home with one of these packets and I angrily threw it in the trash. I threw a child's chance for help in the trash. I might as well have thrown the child in the trash. I was just sick of everybody's hand being out asking. "It's not like we are rich!" Aren't we?  I spend more per month for my pets, than I will for this boy.

Do you see my son? He has no pockets, he has no shoes.  Without these things he loves to sing and play with little cars.  He helps his mother, he carries water, he goes to the market to try and sell things, he plays soccer.

I can't wait to hear from him. Sometimes we just have these moments in life, when we have an opportunity for blessing. I'm just grateful that this time I didn't say, no.

If you would like to adopt a child too. www.compassion.com or call them 1- 800- 336-7676