Students are running around like monkeys on the camp ground. It’s overwhelming, but over the course of the week, I find my place as a helper to a group of girls from ages 13 to 14. They are all so amazing, each with their own personalities that will be remembered to the end. Their openness is well appreciated and the outward expression of love, from the genuine hugs to the sweet kisses on the cheek, refuels me after each eventful day. No other place I’d rather be.
Thursday rolls around and the Americans are required to put on a skit. No perfect time like the present to bring out THE hat...It's a hit. The kids don’t expect it at all, and the execution of its unveiling is perfected with a calm pause followed by an abrupt burst of dance to La Cucaracha.
It's Friday and Claudette approaches me with her arm swung over a little man. "This is Dima. He collects hats and he wants to know if he can have yours." I hesitate. "But this is my hat," my selfish mind echoes into my ears. The Holy Spirit beats that thought out of me and I question, "How can this be a ministering tool?" "Do you really want it?" "Da," he says. "Do you believe in Jesus?" He shrugs His shoulders and gives Claudette, Alina and me a strange look, as if he knows the desired response is "YES!" but he can't seem to bring himself to lie. Alina translates the body language and says, "I don't think he does." "I'll think about it," I say as I walk away confused with what opportunity God's placed before us…
We walk outside as Alina chases after us and asks us to pray for Dema. We do. The three of us huddle up as we pray in the drizzling outdoors. We pray for God to open up his eyes to the truth. We pray that he accept Christ as his Savior. We pray that he is surrounded by godly people to lead him in the right direction...
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