For All the “Davids” of this World

I gingerly pulled our Trooper up to the curbside. This way I could quickly scoot up to the ATM located just outside the bank by the wharf. Opening my door, I spotted a young teenager out of the corner of my eye standing just a few feet away from me who  immediately began calling my name.

Avoiding eye contact with the young boy, I assumed that he was another of the many street kids who always descended upon our vehicle looking for a handout. The ATM is one of their favorite places to gather. I’m sure it didn’t take too long for them to realize that this strange machine magically spits out money for certain individuals. Many of these kids hold out hope that there’s a slight chance that some of that money just may end up in their eagerly outstretched palms. Making my way through the crowd of boys gathering around me, this particular young man kept calling to me. Suddenly it hit me. I had heard that voice before. It was David’s voice.

David came to our church as a young boy over a decade ago with his mother. Our children became so fond of him that he usually ended up sitting on our family church bench with us. Because he always wore a black and yellow striped shirt, they affectionately nicknamed him “Gep.” “Gep” actually means wasp, but I believe our children were thinking of a bumblebee when they named him. The name stuck. David loved our family and especially the attention our children lavished on him.

Unfortunately, David’s mother fell ill and passed away. His father was a womanizer and took no responsibility whatsoever for his son, and David was eventually taken in by his grandmother. Since she lived in town, she and David began attending another church and we lost touch with them. From time to time we would see David dressed up in his nice school clothes on his way to class. Things seemed to be going well with him in spite of the loss of his mother and the negligence of his father. We had no idea that, later, life would take another downward turn for him.

This particular day, I gave David a hug and asked him how he was. It was only then that my eyes fell on his tattered clothes. I learned that his grandmother, having become ill, had moved to Port-au-Prince to live with her extended family. Sadly, David wasn’t invited into the family circle and was left to fend for himself. I gave him a little money and told him I would pray for him. He wasn’t begging. He just wanted me to know it was he who was calling me. Little David was all grown up now – seventeen years old, to be exact, and was spending most of his waking hours on the street. My heart hurt for him as I drove away. Sadly, “Gep” has felt the sting of the harshness of life here in Haiti.

For over thirty-two years Rehoboth Ministries has been helping hurting people – like David. In a country of extreme poverty and little hope, Rehoboth has been impacting lives and giving dignity to the hopeless. Children have been given an education. Others have received medical help in all forms. Hungry stomachs have been filled and lives have been changed.

Won’t you join us in being a regular supporter of this work? With your help we can do so much more. From helping a struggling Bible school student pay for school to enabling a parent to pay for their child’s tuition and books, you can help lift a heavy burden.  Would you pray today and ask the Lord how you can help us throw a lifeline to the hurting? Perhaps we can’t help all the “Davids” of this world, but together, we can do great things.

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