I am the father of a large family, a full-time Christian volunteer, and a part-time sports coach. During our family’s two-year stay in India, I always packed some sports equipment when we traveled.
Our time there included many challenging and rewarding experiences. Our teenagers did volunteer work at several medical clinics, where they cheered up and helped ease the suffering of terminally ill children. They also taught at a home for children who had lost their parents to AIDS. We traveled to the sites of natural disasters, bringing water, food, clothing, and other relief supplies. It seemed that wherever we turned, someone needed encouragement or assistance.
One Saturday, after an especially busy week, we packed a picnic lunch and a soccer ball and headed for a cricket ground on the edge of a nearby college campus. The dense trees and bushes that surrounded the field reminded us of our native Northern California. The day was perfect, and so was the spot.
Such beauty, such peace, such rest, I thought. This is going to be great! No crowds, no noisy traffic, no pressing business—just my family and me! Heaven!
I pulled out my old, worn soccer ball and tossed it to one of my girls.
No sooner had we begun to kick the ball around than a horde of slum children emerged from the woods. They had been there all along, it turned out, curiously studying our every move. The sight of the soccer ball, though, had been more than they could stand. Before we knew it, we were face to face with more than 50 children, ranging in age from about 6 to 13, all eager to join the fun. They wore ragged clothes, no shoes, tousled hair, and gorgeous smiles. And they all expected something from this family of foreigners.
I called them to gather around, and tried to make myself heard over the hubbub. When it became clear that most of the children didn’t speak English, I called for an interpreter. An older boy stepped forward. I pulled out my whistle and proceeded to explain the rules. From the oldest to the youngest, they listened respectfully and nodded. We chose teams, and the game began.
Like a swarm of bees, we ran up and down the field, chasing and kicking that ball for hours. Forget the teams. Forget the rules. Forget the goals. These kids just wanted to kick the ball! You never saw so many smiles, or heard so many giggles and so much laughter!
Every once in a while, someone would kick the ball out from the conglomeration of little bodies and into the open field. When this happened, one boy seemed to always get to the ball first and claim it for his own. Off he would go, running and kicking the ball away from the rest of us until someone caught up with him and guided him back to the group. Not even my whistle blowing or everyone else’s shouts could get him to return with the ball.
Finally, bewildered, I asked my young interpreter why this one boy wouldn’t stop when I blew the whistle.
“Why, sir,” he said, “the boy is deaf.”
Much later, we ended the game and the children gathered at midfield to say goodbye. I was exhausted but immensely satisfied. The sea of smiles and happy faces warmed my heart.
When all but a few of the children had returned to the mud huts and hovels they called home, two boys, one on a bicycle and the other pushing it, approached me. The younger one on the bike had something to say. With a beaming smile that I will never forget, he exclaimed, “Thank you, sir, for a wonderful day. I had so much fun!”
“You are welcome,” I replied. “But I don’t remember seeing you on the field today.”
It was only then that I realized why his friend had been pushing him. His legs were paralyzed and twisted from polio. My look of shock and dismay only triggered another bright smile.
As he was being pushed off toward home, he looked back and announced, “I enjoyed very much watching you playing with my brothers and friends today. Thank you, sir! Thank you!”
I had been looking for a little relaxation and time with my family, but found a lesson instead.
When I thought I’d given all I could and it was time to look out for me and mine, God put others who needed His love in my path. He gave me the renewal I needed, but not in the way I had expected. The joy of giving melted away the tiredness and burned-out feeling.
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Matthew 10:42 ESV / And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.”
2 Corinthians 8:12 ESV / For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have.
Luke 6:30 ESV / Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back.
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