Living halfway around the world from everyone that I had grown up with had been doable, because I had always had one of my family still with me, but now it was just me (and 3 babies, and 2 youngsters). I shouldn’t complain, since one of our closest friends is visiting now, but it still runs through my mind that she will need to leave soon, too.
My mind has been selfishly centering on myself - pity being my dearest friend. Then God in His infinite wisdom shifted my emphasis off of me and onto a little street boy named Galata who was visiting my home. Now HE knew loneliness. His father had died a few years back and this year his mother followed. Distant relatives arrived bringing hope of family, but only sold the house and left him destitute. Luckily, one of his parents’ servants took him into their home, but soon could not afford his daily expenses. So at six years old, he was living on the streets of Gimbie...
Continue reading here at Monica's blog:
Are There Shoes in Heaven?
The boy pictured above is not Galata but one of the thousands of children living on the streets in Ethiopia.
Are There Shoes in Heaven?
The boy pictured above is not Galata but one of the thousands of children living on the streets in Ethiopia.
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