There's always that ONE kid...
There's absolutely no explaining why one kid in particular catches your eye...and your heart...but it always seems to happen.
It's not that he is the smallest or the skinniest or the saddest...It's not that she is the prettiest or the smartest or the one with the sweetest smile.
Only God knows how the face of a Kenyan street kid can etch it's image so deeply into my mind and my life... but here I am, back home in the OC, at 3 in the morning, looking at this little boy's face just as clearly as if he was sitting here in front of me.
But the truth is...he's not here.He's still in a refugee camp in Cherengany.
I'm sleeping in my Dove Canyon home...he's sleeping under a tarp.
I have my wife by my side...he's surrounded by 7 other kids who have no idea who he is.
I have sheets and pillows and blankets...he stays warm by curling up close to the nearest child.
I have the love of my family and friends...he has no one to love him or to tuck him in or to kiss him goodnight.
If I'm thirsty, I simply get a drink of water...he has to wait in line for hours to get a cup of dirty well water.
I have a restroom to privately use when I need it...he shares one of the five public latrines with 22,000 people.
I can't even remember the last time I was really hungry...hunger is his constant shadow.
I stayed with him for a couple days...he may be there for months.
It's not the nights where I sit and see his face so clearly, in my memory, that bothers me. It's the thought that in a few months I will try as hard as I can to conjure up the memory of that face...but it will be lost...Replaced by an image on ESPN or a commercial on TV or a new titanium golf club...or my busy schedule.Even though I'll be back at the camp in a few weeks, chances are, I may never be able to find him...I don't even know his name.
But I know Someone who does...and He never forgets...
