Dan: those who have the least share the most

Those Who Have the Least Share the Most.

I love being able to share different experiences that leave an impression on me. This post stems from something I do every morning when I get to school: I try and talk to each student in both my classes, asking them how their weekend or previous night was. Most give the typical “good” response, some divulge a bit more, but the student who I have been tutoring (and writing about!) almost always says “bad.” This obviously got my attention. I wanted his response to be “good,” so one day a couple weeks ago I asked him if he’d like to get together over the weekend and do something fun. He was excited about it, so that Sunday I went and visited him at the orphanage where he stays. From there, we started walking into the city because, per his request, we were going to spend our afternoon “just walking.” On our way there we started a dialogue that would be brought up throughout the next few hours we spent together.

Just outside the city limits, we walked past a congregation of maybe 10 homeless people sleeping in a shaded patch of grass. As we passed he pointed them out and said it made him feel “shame” and “sad.” I asked why and he went on to explain that it was because they have no food or homes or money or anything. He’s spent some time on the streets as well, so I wasn’t too surprised at his empathy. Later, towards the end of our walk we got talking about life. I asked him what his dream job was when he grew up and I couldn’t believe what he told me. I expected him to reply with his usual talk of being a basketball player in the United States or winning the lottery, but he gave me an answer that you’d be hard pressed to find another sixteen year old kid say. He told me that he wants to help the homeless people. He wants to give them food and shelter and jobs. Now THAT I did not see coming. But wait, there’s more. On our way out of the city there is a really good bakery that I had been bugging him about going to all day. All I wanted to do was buy him a delicious, ridiculously decorated baked good. As we were walking by the street it is on I decided to give it one last try. Finally, rather than saying that he wasn’t hungry he agreed to let me buy some cake! Except he didn’t want the cake. Rather, he told me to buy the cake and give it to the homeless people we were about to walk by once again on our way home.

You can’t make this stuff up. Here is a refugee orphan who has to wash cars at the touristy waterfront to make money so he can buy his clothes or anything else that he might need refusing to be selfish; here is a sixteen year old kid in the sixth grade who gets made fun of because he can barely read caring for complete strangers. He has every right to feel sorry for himself, and often times he does. He has every right to be mad at the world for the situation that he is in, but instead he wants to give back. It inspired me.

I didn’t buy that cake. I’m not sure why; looking back on it I wish I had. It would have been a powerful thing for a kid whose total possessions could probably fit in a backpack to give a delicious, ridiculously decorated cake to those who don’t even have a backpack. I hope by the end of this trip I have another chance at something like this.