Out of His Poverty...

Angelo Mawa - December 2009

Imagine Angelo Mawa as a typical eight-year-old American kid living in the suburbs with his typical American family.  He's the smartest kid in his class, the one who knows all the answers and sits up front, and of course he's the teacher's favorite.  But the other kids aren't jealous because he's also everyone's friend, he can take a joke and isn't afraid to act a little foolish to make others laugh.  He plays soccer and video games and is learning to play the drums, he takes out the trash every week without complaining or being asked, and he reads to his younger brother and sister every night because he truly loves them.  He says that someday he will be a doctor, and you believe him, but no one would be surprised if he became a teacher because the kid loves to learn.  He'll also eventually have his heart broken by a girl who didn't really want a nice guy, and people would take advantage of his generosity, but he'd live a sheltered, comfortable life.

Instead Angelo Mawa is an atypical eight-year-old living in South Sudan.  He was dropped at the orphanage as a two-year-old and couldn't even stand on his own legs because of malnourishment.  He's a vibrant kid with a constant smile and a bright mind who can have a full conversation in English.  He'll say things like, "Excuse me Mary, I'm going to tell those children to stop fighting;"  or, "Good night Mary, I'll see you tomorrow morning or when it's dark outside;"  or, "Did you go to the President Obama's house to eat dinner when you lived in America?"  He also has more than a few white hairs on the back of his head, and when the other kids pull them out he just laughs.  When you tell him that these hairs are a sign of wisdom he grins and says, "I like to have the wisdom."  

And one night after dinner, when your heart is heavy from thinking about all the people and things you're missing back home, little Angelo Mawa tells you a story that lifts you out of the gray sadness.  That day Angelo only ate part of his lunch; before he even touched his rice, beans, and banana he divided everything in half.  Because Angelo has an awareness of the world that exceeds his years and he is not blind to life beyond the orphanage fence.  He tells you, in perfect English, "I know many of the people don't have food so I wanted to give them some of my lunch so they will not be hungry today."  As he tells you this he is holding a stick that he uses to bang on an aluminum can to practice the drums and you think of the tangible things this child, this small boy, has and they are not much:  a few outfits, one pair of too-big shoes, a bed with a mosquito net.  Is there anything else?  No.  He is an orphan after all, a fatherless boy who arrived at Harvesters as a baby weak with hunger.  That was six years ago and now he is thoughtfully, sacrificially giving his own food to others - others who know the hunger he once lived.  

"And Jesus sat down opposite the treasury, and began observing how the people were putting money into the treasury; and many rich people were putting in large sums.  A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which amount to a cent.  Calling His disciples to Him, He said to them, 'Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.'" (Mark 12: 41- 44)

Slowly you are realizing that you have lived a luxurious life, with things and experiences and opportunities that are unfathomable to Angelo Mawa.  And you know that despite all you've given and all you've done you have never sacrificed as much as the widow who gave her only two copper coins or the eight-year-old Sudanese orphan who gave away half his lunch.  This is not social consciousness, this is not "being a good person," this is the sacrificial love of God evident in a child who says, "I love other people because God loved me first."  

What if we all gave like this?  

What if we all loved like this?

Angelo Mawa - December 2010

"Two things I ask of you, Lord; do not refuse me before I die: Keep falsehood and lies far from me; give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread."  (Proverbs 30: 7 - 8)