I’m a Bible worker, and my heart is in evangelism. One day God impressed me to work with an unusual group of people.
On my way to work, I paused at the gate to the church office and glanced at the boys standing nearby. I knew that most of them were homeless, either by choice or by circumstances they couldn’t control. Some had run away from abusive homes or from unending poverty. I wondered if they missed their mothers. I turned and walked nervously over to them.
“Hello,” I greeted them with a smile.
They looked at me strangely, wondering what I was going to do next.
I knew that many of these boys were addicted to drugs and alcohol. And I was sure that they all were hungry. They needed a family, at least a mother, to look out for them and teach them right from wrong. God had impressed me to get to know these young boys and share His love with them. “I’m your mother,” I said bravely. “I’d like to get to know you.”
But the boys were shy, and I was nervous. I knew that, even though they were young, they far outnumbered me and could easily steal my bag or hurt me if they wanted to. But I kept smiling and talking. I talked to them for a few minutes until we all felt more at ease. Then I invited them to come and sit under a tree with me so we could talk some more.
The boys hesitated, but eventually they came and sat down. I told them a little about myself; then, I told them how God loves each one of them. They warmed up to me and began to tell me a little bit about themselves. I invited the boys to return the following week.
The next Monday I brought food with me. I knew that boys are always hungry, especially homeless boys who probably hadn’t had a home-cooked meal for a very long time. Most of them survived on handouts they received from begging and leftovers from the bakeries.
I made foo-foo (a starchy paste made from potato, plantain, or cassava) and some soup. When the boys arrived, they smelled the food, and I could see the smiles on their faces. They ate hungrily, and again we talked. Some boys even trusted me enough to tell me that foo-foo wasn’t one of their favorite foods and asked if I could make something different. I tried to vary the food each week to please everyone’s taste at least sometimes. And the boys loved it.