The boy without a smile.

I separated this story from the rest of my Morocco blog because that was already getting too long. But I wanted to post this for anyone who was interested in reading about one of the most profound experiences I had on the trip and how it affected me. If you haven’t read about the Morocco trip yet, read the blog below first.

We knew that on the way back from the desert we would be stopping to give food and clothes to poor people in the area, so we all had something prepared to give. Eventually we stopped along the side of the road where some people had built their own houses out of branches and some blankets. Here we all walked off the buses to give to them whatever we had to give. I remember as I walked off the bus at this stop the first thing I saw was a 6-year old boy standing there with a blank look on his face, staring at all the students walking off the bus. I attempted a smile, but then stopped because I couldn’t. I couldn’t smile at him because it felt wrong in that moment. I realized I could never understand his life and he could never understand mine. I would never understand what it would be like to live with so little and he would never understand living with so much. It hurt my heart to see him standing there so helpless and so hopeless, knowing that I could do nothing for him but offer a few juice boxes and some bread. I couldn’t stand to look at him, and looked away to add my small offering to the growing pile of gifts for the people.

That moment reminded me of the many blessings I have, and although it’s not wrong to enjoy my blessings, I should be more thankful for them than I am. What is it that separates me from that boy and the rest of the people who live there? Why was I born into a family of wealth while he was born into a family with nothing? There’s nothing special I did to have the things I have and I’m not any better than him for having more. Some are born with a lot and some are born with nothing, and such is life. It hurt me that I could really do nothing for him, that he would drink the juice and eat the bread and go on living again with nothing. What hurt me the most, though, was the hopeless look on his face. I wanted him to know that there’s something more. That even if he has nothing in this life, he does have something. That even if he did have things, they would all fade away, but the one thing that wouldn’t is Jesus. I wish I would have done something to communicate that to him now, but I was shocked in that moment. I didn’t know how to respond. But I know that anything is bearable in this life with Jesus, and I wanted him to have that hope.

Anyway, if nothing else, I walked away from this experience more thankful for my blessings than before. Although I think it’s unfair that he was born with so little and I with so much, I have to go on living my life and allow myself to enjoy the things that I have. But I hope I never forget this encounter and the way it made me feel, so that I can always remember it when I begin to take things for granted.