I was 14 years old when my siblings and I were, once again, separated from each other, and placed into foster care (no fault of our own). Fortunately, it would be the last orphan train stop for all of us, with the youngest having a lengthier stay. During that time I was participating in a missions education group in my church, known as Acteens. Acteens challenged young girls ages 12 to 17 to reach beyond our personal small world, and step into the lives of the broken and hopeless, and in doing so, become a beacon of hope - in a broader sense- for Christ.
I was on track to reach the highest level of Queen Regent in Service, and I needed a community service project, so I chose to refurbish used, donated toys from my community, and deliver them to children living in various children's homes in neighboring counties. Word about my endeavor quickly got out into the community, and toys began flowing in. And oh boy, how they flowed! Suddenly I felt a bit overwhelmed, but like a little elf I took a big breath and began chipping away at each toy, one toy at a time. Firetrucks, backhoes, cars and ambulances were scrubbed clean, dents hammered out of them, and a fresh coat of paint added. Dolls were cleaned up; for most, their hair was combed, groomed and embellished in ribbons. Finally, they were re-dressed with new doll clothes and accessories I had sewn and crafted.
Older children received gift certificates from financial donations, to be used for anything they desired, while books were wiped down and bundled in colorful ribbons in age appropriate stacks.
When the final toy was renewed, and gift certificates tucked inside colorful envelopes, the delivery process could begin. By this time, Christmas was just a week away, and my hope was to deliver the goodies on Christmas eve.
🎀 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁 🎀
I cannot begin to express the emotions I felt as I watched little ones tearing into packages, one by one, running to me with hugs and kisses. Watching the light return into the eyes of the older children, when they opened their very generous gift certificates, comforted me with hope for each one of them. When I told them that I too was in a similar situation as they, arms of young tweens and teens embraced me in a silent ring of love.
No words needed.
Smiles and laughter filled the living spaces, igniting a fire in my heart of the great love that my God had bestowed on me, allowing me this memorably grateful privilege. As you have already realized, these moments for me were simply unforgettable, and healing for one who was as dented and worn as those refurbished toys.
Discontentment is a powerful word. It lives in a negative space. As a foster child, I was broken and discontented because I was missing my family. Discontent, or dis-content (lack of content) in life can be cured by building content into our lives. I believe that as I turned my eyes outward, rather than inward (and who could blame me if I didn't) contentment scooted a tiny bit closer to me in that car seat ride back to the sheltered space where I had been placed - for a time at least. I cannot say for certain if that is what I had intentioned as a teen, to learn contentment, however, the joy that was added to my life, through those precious children, certainly helped to bridge the gap between discontentment and contentment, as well as to gently and lovingly assist me through a very painful time in life.
Father, thank YOU. You have added content to my life throughout the years, and I will never forget how Your Faithful arms rescued and embraced me then, and how they rescue and embrace me even now. I will ever be grateful for YOU - my Father.
Amen v amen
🦋
P.S. I completed my goals, and made it to the top:
Queen Regent in Service
