Chapter 9 One Hundred Crashing Jetliners

three-hundred-dollars1I cried by the end of this chapter. Kids are so personal to me, they grab my heart and don’t let go. The sheer numbers of the people who are dying everyday and ever year (10 million children – preventable) are of course mind blowing. Rich said when discussing why the world is not taking notice, why we have chosen not to help although we could, “Perhaps one reason is that these kids who are dying are not our kids; they’re somebody else’s.” My heart stopped for a moment.

The story of Vikas, a little boy who’s legs had both been amputated after his house fell on him during the earthquake in India in 2001. The story of a desperate mother who rushed toward a car pulling away because she heard an American was in town and hoping he could help. Help her son. It made me want to weep. Rich made is to personal with these two sentences:

Believing that He could help – isn’t that what all grieving parents did when Jesus passed through their village? Like the father who approached Jesus, knelt before Him, and said, “Lord, have mercy on my son”? (Matthew 17:15)

If that were Prayse or Xavier I’d do anything. Anything and everything. Desperate to give my babies a life they deserve living.

It cost $300.

$300 to allow this little boy another surgery and then prosthetic limbs. Did you get that? Three. Hundred. Dollars. I have more than that budgeted this month to finish up Christmas shopping.

I have read this before and yet I am still stopped in my tracks. Thinking here in the US this would be thousands upon thousands of dollars and there is just no way I could help. Oh but I can. Three hundred dollars.

God can take anything and make it big, he can change a life which will change the world. We just must do something. It’s still that simple message. Do something. Do anything, as long as you I am doing something.

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