The Best Day

Wherever we go, we draw a crowd. That's one of the best (and one of the worst) things about being a white person in Burkina Faso.

This afternoon was no different. We stopped by a house to visit the triplets in our program for infants in distress, and within a few minutes, we had a small following of children who stood at a distance and just watched us. One of our visitors from the United States, Ron, remembered that we had a trunk of gifts to give away in the back of our vehicle. The next thing I knew, he was putting a bright yellow t-shirt over the head of one of the boys.

"That's that boy whose father is deaf and works in the market," Rebecca said when she saw Ron slipping the shirt on the boy. 

A little bit surprised that Rebecca recognized this young man, we all went over to find out a little more about him. 

He was covered in dirt from head to toe, as if he hadn't washed or changed clothes in a long time. He did not smile. We learned that he has a father and two siblings, but his mother is out of the picture. He doesn't always sleep at his house, though, because his father sometimes chases him off. His aunt lives across the way and generally takes care of him. He is nine years old and his name is Bombakebe, which means "no problem".

This was a situation where we could not just walk away, and Ron took a special interest in helping Bombakebe. It seemed like a divine connection. So we set up a meeting to talk with him and his family further. 

The more we talked with Bombakebe, his father, and his aunt, the more we found out about his story. He doesn't go to school because he gets beaten there. He spends his days in the streets, playing with his friends and collecting small metal objects to sell. His father doesn't approve of him, so he will throw rocks at him with a slingshot when he asks for food. Therefore, Bombakebe looks for houses under construction, and he sleeps there at night after the workers have all gone home. The aunt is his primary caregiver, but she struggles to provide for her own children as well as her brother's. She used to work at the hospital, cleaning the blood out of soiled sheets and surgical towels with no personal protective equipment. When someone told her about the risks of that job, she took a different job, but her boss often doesn't have enough money to pay her at the end of the month. 

One afternoon, we invited Bombakebe, his sister Evale, and his cousin Ole in our courtyard. "What do you like to do?" they were asked. 

"I like to play football," Bombakebe responded. "And I like to play with empty plastic bottles," Evale said. 

"What was the best day of your life?" they were asked next. 

Ole said, "The day I got to ride in a car!"

"And what is most important to you?" 

"Jesus," Bombakebe said.  

We were extremely excited to find out that Bombakebe has been going to a church not far from his house. He has found the most valuable treasure in the midst of extreme poverty. 

We have decided to invest in Bombakebe and his family. The father has given us permission to help, and the aunt is extremely grateful. Although the situation is complex, and we don't know entirely what to do, we knew what to do first. 

So we loaded up Bombakebe, Evale, and Ole in the car and headed to the market. Smiles spread across their faces as they bounced in their seats and stared out the window. For the first time, I saw Bombakebe smile. 

At the market, we picked out t-shirts and Burkina Faso soccer jerseys for the boys and a brand new outfit for Evale. (She even stripped down right there in the market to out it on immediately!) They all got new underwear, a new pair of shoes, soap, and a new sack. We even let Bombakebe pick out a piece of fabric so that he can have tailor-made church clothes, which is very important in the burkinabe culture. 

Last but not least, we let Bombakebe pick out a mat and a blanket to keep at our house so that he can sleep there when he has no where else to go. 

You could tell by the kids' behavior in the market that no one had ever done something like this for them. It was worth it all just to see the smiles on their faces. I kept thinking about Ole saying that the best day of his life was getting to ride in a car. I think they now have a new best day.

The kids that I met just two days ago were dirty, smileless, and hopeless. Today, they have a sack full of new clothes, smiles on their faces, and hope in their eyes.

As we dropped them off at the aunt's house, we greeted her warmly and presented her with a gift of some rice and vegetables. After seeing their tiny mud dirt house, Ron gathered all the kids around him, knelt on the ground at their level, and prayed for them. 

As we said goodbye, I said, "I'll see you soon!" because it's true. That will not be our last interaction with Bombakebe and his family as there is much more that we believe God will do in and through this situation. This is just the beginning. One day, I pray that his aunt will have a great job, perhaps because of a microloan that we give her. One day, I pray that Bombakebe will succeed in school, perhaps because of a scholarship that we can provide for him. One day, I pray that his relationship with his father will be reconciled because his father will come to know Jesus through the love we show to him. 

Sometimes I meet someone like Bombakebe, and I know God is real. Only God could connect a poor young man living in a desperate situation in Burkina with a man from the United States who cares enough to not just pass by, but extend a loving hand to help. Only God can put a smile on her face of a boy who is rejected by his father to roam the streets and sleep in abandoned construction sites. Only God can bring such a boy into a faith where he knows that Christ is the most important thing in the whole world. 

Only God can turn him from an aloof onlooker into a recipient of a market shopping spree. 

Isn't that what God has done for us? He took us in our dirty, hopeless, helpless state, and he chose us. He put new clothes on us and made us the recipients of his extravagant grace. He has brought us joy in our poverty and hope in our desperation. He has given us a safe place to stay in his presence. He has turned us from onlookers into participants in the kingdom of God. 

Now we, in turn, do the same for the ones around us that God brings into our path. We love as he has loved us, and we see the visible result of such love. It looks like a big white smile on a dark black face in a bright green new soccer jersey.