And in the end…there is love.

A friend of mine is going to Ethiopia this weekend, and since I have two Compassion kiddos there, he agreed to take gifts to them.

Have you ever tried to shop for a child in poverty. It’s an odd feeling. Knowing the money I was spending on trinkets was a month’s salary for their parents. But also reflecting on the fact that these kids don’t get gifts. Their parents don’t pick up a toy on the way home from work.

As I walked the aisles of the local Stuff-Mart, fingering stuffed animals and colorful packs of crayons, my heart felt very full. And I just started to pray over the stuff filling up my cart. And please, don’t think I’m this overly spiritual person. I’m not. At all. Which is what made this moment in the crowded aisles that much more special. That holy. My normally worldly mind was filled with heavenly thoughts.

I prayed that the teddy bear with the soft fur would bring comfort to little Nardos. That she would hug it close when there were shouts in the alleyway outside her house.

I prayed that Baheru would use his imagination as he peered through his new binoculars. That he would point the lenses to something beautiful–to a green tree, or an ant crawling in the dirt.

I prayed that Nardos’ new t-shirt and necklace would remind her that someone thousands of miles away loved her.

I prayed that each time Baheru turned on his flashlight, it would chase away the darkness and fears.

And on they went. As I packed the items carefully into small backpacks later that night, I had a hard time perceiving the fact that, in a few days, these gifts would be opened on the dusty floors of mud huts. I can only pray that these tokens will bring a bit of joy to children surrounded by despair.