Finding Noe

While visiting Talanga we met a boy from the street. He looked to be maybe 9 or 10 years old. We found him crouched in the corner of the entrance to the new taco restaurant in town. I could just simply state that he was dirty and un kept but that would be an understatement. His face was smeared with grime; imagine what you would see if a toddler had gone out to play in a sandbox after eating pancakes for breakfast and no one to wash his face. Only it was obvious that Noe had no pancakes for breakfast and perhaps no breakfast at all. His clothes were dirty and his hands were filthy with back crud under his untrimmed nails. The boys had their Honduran friend, Dimaus, with them and he was actually the first to notice. He also was the only one with any food left on his plate and so he asked if he could give his last taco to the boy. He didn’t just give him the taco. He sat down beside the boy and asked him his name. Dimaus looked up at us and said, “His name is Noe.” Dimaus sat and talked with him for just a little while but long enough for him to find out that he sleeps in front of the grocery store, his mother and step father are always drunk and they beat him so he chooses not to go home. He chooses to sleep on the streets and beg for food...anything to avoid another beating. My heart broke as I watched him lick every last bit of the taco from his dirty fingers. My heart cried out to our Father...”Lord, what are we supposed to do? How can we just walk away and leave him sitting here?” We brought him into the restaurant and to order him a full meal. As we escorted Noe to the table I noticed him limping. I asked him if it was his leg or his foot and he pointed to his foot. Oh, how I wanted to remove the threads of what was once a shoe...I wanted to see why his foot was hurting him...but what would I find? What could I do? So we ordered him a meal and we left him. “Lord, should we have done more?” I know that may be what you are asking yourself as you read this. It is so hard to make those calls, what to do, what not to do...it breaks my heart and I feel so inadequate. Yet when the directors of Manuelito heard of Noe they rushed back to the restaurant to find him and hear more of his story. But when they arrived he had already left. They knew he had an orange shirt on so they searched the streets and eventually they found him. They told him about Manuelito but he said he did not want to study and so he chose not to go with them and to stay on the streets. We cannot understand why a child would choose to sleep on the streets and dig through the trash instead of going to a home that would provide for his needs, show him love and give him the opportunity to go to school, yet in some ways it makes sense. I imagine he is probably depressed and lonely, has no self value, sick and hungry. How could a child in this state even begin to think about studying? Perhaps the Lord will open doors for us when we are living in Talanga to begin working with Noe. Perhaps He will give us another opportunity to show him that he matters and that he is a child of God; to take off that shoe and bandage his foot and to bandage his heart. Perhaps we can nurse him back with a little TLC so that he can begin to process the idea of going to school. I trust that if it be the Lord’s will, He will open those doors and have our paths to cross with little Noe again. Will you pray for Noe?