These two boys give me faith. Both are 12 years old and come from a Dom
community in South Lebanon, one
of the most marginalized ethnographic groups in the country. Their poverty ticks nearly all the variables
on the child vulnerability checklist.
One of the boys entered the New
Horizon Center Literacy Program last year having never been to school
before (even though his older brother had).
Apparently his parents weren’t willing to spend the $20 a month bus fee
to send him to the public school, which is an explanation I hear from many
parents in the community for not sending their children to schools. Consequently, the first decade of his life
passed without any structured education.
The other boy had been to school before.
It was a residential program where the treatment was so malicious that
he refused to continue. He opted for a
life void of education rather than endure the nightmare of abusive school. The trauma was apparent when I first invited
him to the New Horizons Center; the very suggestion of schooling filled him with
a visible fear. He did end up giving our
program a chance this year- along with his younger brother who the parents
didn’t even bother sending to school- and within days he realized that the
center is a very different type of place.
Both of these boys have been faithful in their attendance and
participation, and their teacher recently shared about how excited she is to see
the strides they are making in reading.
They too are rightfully pleased with themselves.
I personally have found the significance of literacy most
apparent when I listen to those who are illiterate. I hear about how a whole world of engagement
is unreachable because they cannot turn written words into communication. I’ve heard about the practical challenges-such
as the chore of keeping contacts in a mobile phone or trying to pursue a
romantic relationship without the advantage of texting- but the more daunting
challenge is the psychological shame of existing in this world unequipped with
one of the essential abilities granted to mankind: written language. Hopefully these two boys and their classmates
in the New Horizons Center will be spared illiteracy’s misfortune. They’re on the right track.
Even so, I worry for these boys. They are excited about learning now, but I fear
what waits in the years ahead. They will
start putting off of childish ways as they develop towards adolescence, both
physically and mentally. Their interests
will change, as will the pressures felt from within and around them. Their standing in the community will take new
shape and resistances to education will likely fight against the will to continue
learning. I worry too because our work with these children is, admittedly, limited. While we offer a crucial service, I acknowledge
how much it pales in comparison to the extent of their marginalization. Nearly every area of their wellbeing is
undermined by forces of poverty, and each visit to their community reminds me
of how unprepared and unequipped I am to address the issues facing them. It is oftentimes overwhelming, but it is not
defeating.
The scriptures frequently show us that Jesus exalted little
things. He entered the world via a small
nation lacking power and prestige. He
spoke of his budding kingdom as being the littlest of mustard seeds and the
smallest portions of yeast (Luke 13:18-21).
He gathered together a small band of followers- in fact his rhetoric
almost seemed intentional in winnowing the numbers in his company (John
6:60-66). Little children were heralded
as true demonstrators of the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 1913-15) and it was the
widow’s mites that Jesus declared the richest offering (Luke 21:1-4). Christ came embracing the little things and ended
up transforming everything. In this we
can take comfort in the old adage, “little is much when God is in it.”
Still, we ask God for big things. We desire to expand in all areas and produce
bounties of good fruit that glorify God.
We want to see the number of lives wrought by injustice and sin diminished
to nil. We won’t be idle until every
person actualizes the dignity and honor that God bestows unconditionally on him
and her. However, this hopeful spirit does
not change the reality that what we seek is not always what we find, nor can we
ever fully harness our powers to bring about every change we wish see. We follow the Messiah but we are not
messiahs; our offerings are but a currency’s mites charged against a bill of
millions. Yet this is enough because it
is offered to God, and God is enough.
The results are in His hands.
I don’t know what the future holds for these two boys or how
our program will change the course of their lives. Will it indeed open new horizons for their
futures? It’s hard to measure these
things but it’s not hard to believe. We
keep in mind that the faith fruits of our labors may not be harvested until the
lives of their children and their children’s children unfold. Like the men and women celebrated in the book
of Hebrews, we don’t always see the results hoped for in front of us but by
faith we see and welcome them from a distance. (Hebrews 11:13) On most days that is good enough, but some
days it’s really, really nice to simply see two 12-year-olds in a caring center
enthusiastically putting letters together and creating words.
