HOW many of you children didn’t like what you had for supper last night? And maybe you were unhappy and complained because your mother made you eat some of it anyway. Have you ever gone hungry for a whole day? There might be a few of you who have, but most of you children eat three meals a day and maybe some snacks in between. Perhaps most of you thank the Lord Jesus for your food when you sit down to eat, but have you ever thanked Him that you have never had to go without food?
There are many children in this world who will go to sleep tonight hungry. And many of them won’t even have a bed to sleep in. I am going to let you read a letter about two boys who would have been so happy to have had your supper last night and would like to have slept in your nice clean bed. They would have been pleased to have your worn-out shoes, too. This letter comes from southern Mexico.
I want to tell you about two little boys I met last night. I’m not sure that I can tell you about them without crying, but I am going to try. They were brothers; one was 14 years old and his little brother was 5 years old. They were from Guatemala and they weren’t supposed to be here in Mexico, but they came to try to beg for some money. They were very scared. The older one could speak some Spanish, but his little brother didn’t understand any. They spoke an old Indian language. They were both very small for their ages. I was walking down the street about 8 p.m. when I saw them sitting in a dark doorway. I looked at them, expecting them to ask for money. But they just looked back at me. They were pathetic to see, just dressed in rags, no shoes; each one had a little bundle over his shoulder. They didn’t say a word, so I asked them, “What do you want?”
The older one said very softly, “His head hurts him.” I then saw that the little brother had a rag wrapped around his little head. As I took the rag off to look at his head, the little boy sat perfectly still and did not make a sound. His scalp was covered with sores that had pus oozing out of them.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“Guatemala,” the older one said so quietly I could hardly hear him.
“Where did you sleep last night?” I asked.
They said they had paid a man about 35 cents so that they could sleep on the sidewalk.
“Where is your daddy?” I asked.
“Guatemala,” he said. “He just had an operation,” and he drew a line with his finger down the middle of his stomach to show me where his father had been operated on.
“Where is your mother?”
“Guatemala,” he replied.
“Is she fine?” I asked.
My heart breaks as I recall his answer: “She is blind,” he said very softly. Not one word of complaint. He had brought his little brother with him to Mexico to try to get enough money so that they could get some medicine for his little brother, and he wanted to get some clothes to take back down to his family in Guatemala. He was so tender to his little brother and his little brother was totally submissive to him. They had traveled several days, much of the time walking with their little bundles over their shoulders.
“Do you know about God?” I asked him.
And he replied simply by pointing up into the sky.
“Do you think that He loves you?” I asked him, and he nodded his head. “How do you know that He loves you?” I asked. His answer was the most beautiful that I have ever heard.
“Jesus,” was all he said.
“What is your name?” I asked him.
“Juan.”
“And what is your little brother’s name?”
“Abraham.”
I took them down to the Red Cross where Abraham sat perfectly still while the nurse shaved his head and scrubbed it with disinfectant. Several times he made a face, but never a sound. The nurse got after Juan, telling him that he should take his little brother to an orphanage where he could get better care. Juan spoke briefly to Abraham in the Indian language, and Abraham shook his little head. “He wants to stay with me,” Juan said softly.
I walked with them back to the place where they would spend the night on the sidewalk. Juan pulled out a little rag of a sheet about the size of a shirt and spread it out on the sidewalk. He put his little bundle of rags at one end, and without a word Abraham laid down on it with his head on the rags. I waited until Juan had laid down beside his little brother, and then I walked away, doing the only thing that I could-asking God to please take care of them for Jesus’ sake.
I wish that you, too, would please pray for them. I hope that we can see them some day in heaven.
To have a lot of clothes and money isn’t really very important, is it? The only thing that is really important is to have the Lord Jesus as my Saviour.
Do you have what is really important? It takes money to buy food, clothes and other things. But some day all that will be left behind: “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.” 1 Timothy 6:7. But what is most important in all the world will not be left behind—it is Jesus! He is in heaven right now, and He loves you so much that He died for you. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13. Will you let Him be your Saviour?
ML-08/04/1991