From Skeptics to Sponsors and Mountains of Beans

Well, that doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.

My grandma used to say that. But it was a literal hill of beans that transformed our hearts one afternoon in a Christian book store.

My husband, my oldest son and I were browsing through the store to pass some time, when out of the corner of my eye near the devotional section, I spotted a well-dressed woman about my age standing next to a small table with some pamphlets in her hand.

Next to her was what appeared to be a rather large bucket of beans.

I made a mental note to drop by the devotional department another day as the woman was obviously trying to sell stuff or sign people up for something – either way, I was having none of it.

The bean barrel had left me mildly intrigued, but not curious enough to come within striking distance of a well-rehearsed sales pitch.

My husband and son, on the other hand, were not as apt at the art of avoidance.

I cringed as I watched her approach them. Oh no. She was handing them pamphlets. And they were taking them. And nodding. This gal was good.

“Mom!” said my then-four-year-old bounding across the book store oblivious to my annoyance. “Do you see that bucket over there?! That’s how many kids die every single day! But we can help them! Look, there’s pictures of kids we can help! Can I pick one to help, mom?”

What do you say to that? “No son, we can’t help an impoverished child. Now come along and hop into our new (but not-so-gently used) min-van or we’ll be late for your $800-a-year piano lessons.”

So Gage chose Juniar from Indonesia because he was the same age and because, “he looks kind of mad and not happy.” As I looked at the boy in the mismatched short set with his stern little face and stiff stance, I never dreamed we would soon love this little boy.

But we do. And we love Edwin from Mexico and Hannah from Ghana and Frank from Tanzania too.

I could write volumes about how we love these children, about how my kids get down on their knees every single night and pray for each child and their families. I could tell all sorts of wonderful tales about how much joy writing to these precious children brings us or how their letters and photos are among our most prized family possessions. I could tell you about how they shine like the most brilliant lights I have ever seen reflecting the boundless glory of God and the humble love of Christ.

But it’s the bean lady who deserves mention as well -- the brave bean lady who was likely rejected, avoided and ignored dozens of times that day before my son came along about 15 minutes before the store was due to close.

I thank God she didn’t give up, that she didn’t pack up her beans and head home before we arrived.

I don’t know who she was or what inspired her to bring a bucket of beans to a book store, but I hope somehow that she will know what she has done for my family, and consequently, for many others as we have shared Compassion with others.

Since that day in the book store, we have not only sponsored four children, but we have enjoyed the unparalleled privilege of introducing friends and family members to the joy of sponsorship as well.

As child advocates, we pray that we can unite many other children with the sponsors who need them. Please make no mistake that we need these children every inch as much as they need us.

May God bless the bean lady and all those like her.

“So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” NLT Galations 6:9