Julius shared a video today of some of the children writing letters to their sponsor family. I love being able to picture where Sabrina was when she crafted her latest doodles for our refrigerator.
The letters are a surprisingly meaningful part of the Compassion relationship. These are what put a face on the sponsorship in each direction. When we first arrived at the Compassion center in 2016 and met “the Social Worker” (Julius), he was most excited about showing us the notebooks he keeps. On simple shelves in a small room with one window, he has a three-ring binder for each student with their number on the spine. Inside are their health records from annual check ups, and the originals of all the letters they’ve sent or received.
Before seeing that notebook, I remember being impressed that MJ ever found time to write a few notes to this child we had no hope of ever meeting. But when I opened the binder, in that hot little room, diligently organized by Julius, MJ’s brief letters on the paper Compassion provided to us struck me as miraculous. What are the odds of a woman in Asheville connecting to and caring for this one little girl, in a small village with no pavement, 8000 miles away? What are the odds Sabrina would grow up, being thankful for some woman in America, providing a scholarship for her to (of all things) attend school on Saturdays?
The content didn’t matter much. The miracle of the letters is in being noticed and responding. It’s in taking a minute, maybe two, for MJ to write “we love you” or for Sabrina to doodle a palm tree, and send it away to this person you will probably never meet, to tell them you care about them.