“Have you ever been to a slum?”

That was the question last night that was posed to the girls last night. As the discussion went on, my thoughts drifted to that day back in December where I met a boy named Christopher in the city of Ooty.

The first time I saw Christopher, he was outside of his house. The only walkway leading to his home was a steep, well worn line through the hillside grass. His home is made out of mud and cow dung that his mother collected by hand. She had to do it all herself because Christopher’s father is blind.

I could see the cracks where the unstable walls were beginning to crumble away from rain and weather, the pathetic efforts of patch jobs that only heightened its futility. Where there were gaping holes, I saw torn pieces of shirts and sheets. Some holes were just stuffed with anything – trash, clothes, plastic bags, torn tarps. The roof was laid flat across the top. Sticks stuck together with the same compounds that created the walls and holes filled with garbage. To enter his house, I had to put my head down. My eyes had to adjust from the lack of light – it was pitch black.

I stared at the room that was no more than 10ft by 10ft. Christopher and his 9 siblings sleep together on the floor with their parents in the bag his mom pieced together from old saree material. In the other room, half its size, only a 5ft. pile of clothes with a dozen water jars filled with unfiltered water occupy the rest of the space in their house. There is no kitchen. No bathroom. No furniture. No electricity.

When Christopher’s mother finishes the odd jobs she finds during the day to earn what she can, she stops by the bakery. But not to buy bread. She can’t afford it. So, she offers to sweep the owner’s floor. She will collect the crumbs and bundle them together and take it home for Christopher to eat for dinner. When there is no food, Christopher must go to school without a lunch. He’s been caught stealing other’s food because he is so hungry.

This is Christopher’s life. This is where he lives. And sadly, this is what defines his life. He is a slum child whose only offense in life is being born poor.

But there is hope on the horizon…

The question asked last night was sparked out of a need for prayer. Because there is a vision. And the girls want to pray over it. So, last night they did. They prayed that the vision of Christopher’s family having a nice house would be realized someday. That his parents would be able to be given a cow, so they could sell milk and make a decent living. That there would be an opportunity through a growing friendship with Christopher’s mother that would allow some of the Impact Team’s staff into her home to teach her how to clean and keep her house for her family efficiently. They prayed for hope. They prayed for Christopher.

I knew it could be nothing but a sincere, heart-moved prayer. They met Christopher when he was here for VBS last year. And they are aware of the differences between his life and theirs. They know. And they care with all their hearts about those who are hungry. They see them when they look out at the villages as they pass by in the Impact’s school bus to school. They know there are always going to be poor and needy people. Jesus knew that, too. He referred to Himself as the Living Water, The Bread of Life, everyday things that people were well aware that they needed daily.

So, please pray with them for this vision. Specifically for Christopher’s family. As the Lord is familiar with both the physical and spiritual needs of His children and can “sympathize with our weaknesses…let us therefore draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and may find grace to help in time of need.”

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