Every year, one of the things I look forward to when we step off that tiny plane into Puerto Cabezas is going to the feeding center. Since the first time I set foot into the feeding center, it captured my heart. The kids there generally cannot communicate with us because they do not speak one word of Spanish, let alone English. Most of them primarily speak Miskito, so the communication there is next to nothing. These kids are also not like the orphans back at base. The orphans at base are well taken care of, loved on, fed, and helped throughout life by Pastor Earl and his loving staff. The kids at the feeding center are not as fortunate as the orphans on base. These kids face starvation, endless disease, and they strive to help their families in any way possible. Most of them do not attend school because their families cannot afford to send them. These kids are the ones that people picture when they think of a child in poverty. With that, most people think these children would be bitter, selfish, sad, and damaged. They do not even come close to those characteristics. And this is why I love the feeding center, because the hearts of the children there are so big. They are hurt, they are starving, they deserve so much more then they are receiving as children of God, but they are filled with joy. They have endless joy because they are receiving a meal, they are filled with joy because someone is holding them, they are filled with joy because they are being loved, and they are joyful that they may own a book of Angry Bird stickers. Now we are back to my little buddy, number three on my list.
My little buddy, who sadly I did not learn the name of because of the language barrier, captured my heart. I was walking around playing with a lot of the kids in the feeding center when I saw this little three or four year old boy sitting at a table. The little kids generally catch my eye because I love that age. I went over and waved, knowing that not one word would be understood between me and this little boy, who I figured would soon run away and find his older sibling like most of the younger kids did. We just played around, messing with each other's hands and smiling, the only communication we needed. When he suddenly got up and tugged me with him. I followed this excited boy to a little bag that his siblings and him kept their bowls and plates in. He started
digging in this bag, maybe thinking he needed his plate soon... when suddenly he pulled out this little notebook. He opened it up, turned to his favorite page, and pointed to a page filled with angry bird stickers, and looked up at me with a big smile. And I reflected that right back at him. The pride on his face that he owned these stickers, that they were his, was unbelievable. I have never seen someone so proud of something, especially something so little. (He is the little boy in the blue shirt).
Why are we not as proud as this little boy with the little things we have in life? Who are we to demand the big things? We could have just as well been placed in this little boys shoes, with nothing but a book of stickers. Why do we need to have a thousand possessions to be proud of? Why can't we be proud of the little things in our lives? God provides us with so much but yet we fail over and over to notice the green grass on the ground and the sun in the sky, the little things he has provided us with. I look around America today and see three and four year olds with their noses in a tablet or ipod, what happened to giving them stickers? Dolls? Anything that they should be responsible for, to take care of, something that they can have pride in. Something that is not a materialistic possession, but that we possess true pride in having. We take so many things for granted, but when I remember my little buddy, I have to remind myself to take time out of my day, and appreciate everything, even an Angry Bird sticker.
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