Adi's Faith

Adi Leslie

It was later than I expected. I was taking Adi back to Manantial de Amor children’s home after her monthly orthodontist appointment with a gnawing sensation in my stomach. We needed to stop for some food and fast. I decided it was the right time to introduce Adi to the amazing delights of Little Ceasers pizza; a nugget of American grease right in the middle of Monterrey. We pulled into the parking lot, ordered a medium pepperoni greaser and two Sprites, and sat down at a table to devour.

As I sopped up the orange grease puddles on my slice with a napkin, Adi began to talk about her family. Adi had been living at Manantial de Amor children’s home since she was six and we were currently in the midst of planning her quince anos celebration. Living in a dorm with fifteen girls, sleeping on a bunk bed, eating every meal in a cafeteria, seeing family only on weekends, participating in group chores, group homework, group everything, had been Adi’s normal life for over nine years.

Through bites of pizza, Adi began to tell me about her younger brother who was once at the children’s home with her, but had returned to live with their folks several years ago. Circumstances were hard, but Brian was living with his biological parents while Adi remained at the children’s home. I wiped my mouth and ask the question that I weekly tell visiting group members not to ask, “Why then, are you still here?” I said hesitantly.

 

Adi laid her crust on the Styrofoam plate in front of her and looked up at me. “I don’t know,” she said. I could tell her thoughts were a mud puddle of confusion. How hard it must have been to see her brother lovingly invited back into the family, and not even an explanation given to her as to why she was not. 

“I really don’t know why I’m not living with my family,” she said. Before I could offer a consoling word or hug, Adi continued sincerely, “But I do know that God knows the reason I’m still here. He wants to work in my life through being at this children’s home. He wants to perfect me in a way that could only happen through this time at Manantial.” She nodded, “this is all part of His plan and purpose for my life.”

I stopped chewing as the tears bubbled up. “And,” Adi continued, “I even think that God has a plan to use me to help others while I am here.” She reached for another slice, matter-of-factly, and plopped it on her plate.

I knew the words Adi had just spoken had been divinely revealed. The God of grace and loving-kindness had spoken that truth to Adi’s heart. He had chosen her, given her this faith, and intimately revealed His heart to her. She missed her family, but contently submitted herself to the story her Heavenly Father was weaving for her, a much better story than one she could write on her own.

“Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom he promised those who love him?” James 2:5

Adi with a friend showing off a gift from their sponsor!

Josue's Apple

There is a children’s book by Shel Silverstein called, The Giving Tree. In this story generosity is shown as over and over as an apple tree gives, and gives, and gives of itself to the little boy it loves.

Lucia and I were teaching our little students at Del Norte children’s home about true generosity through this story. When we had finished our lesson, we passed out red construction-paper apples for the kids to decorate with ways they could be generous to others.

  I have no idea what suddenly came upon eight-year-old Josué in this moment. He went from a laughing, good-natured boy to an obstinate, negative soul in literally one second. Josué stood up with a hardened frown on his face and announced that he thought the activity was stupid and he just wasn’t going to do it. We talked with him nicely and then firmly and still he didn’t budge. One of our rules at the library is that if you come to class, you must participate in all the activities, not just the ones you favor. Josué was reminded about this rule, but his countenance and opposition did not change.

Josue

Josué spent the next twenty minutes under the teacher desk ripping his paper apple to shreds. Lucia and I ignored his behavior and attended to the other students. I have to admit, I was not feeling very generous toward Josué in this moment. Unlike the tree we had just read about, I was about ready to take back everything I had ever given Josué and make him leave the library! This was not the first time Josué had been a challenge to me. There had been several other days when I asked him to leave the library because of his behavior. He usually left while laughing mockingly at me, no sense of remorse for the chaos he had caused. 

Our reading circle at the library

Our library "Giving Tree"

As the students finished the activity and began perusing books, I felt a slight tug on my shirt. I turned to see Josué with The Giving Tree in his hand. “Can we read this together?” he asked, once again a happy boy. Speechless, the anger shocked out of me, I nodded a “yes.” We sat on the floor and opened the cover. Page after page we read together the story of the Christ-like tree. I turned the last page, closed the cover, and much to my surprise, Josué asked for another paper apple. I watched quietly, as with a tinge of embarrassment Josué wrote on his apple, “I love you. Forgive me for what I have done.”

Josue's apple 

Never in my life did I expect to see those words written out on Josué’s apple. After months of giving, coaching, disciplining, loving, and teaching these kids, we were finally seeing some return… and from the least likely of all. Josué stood up and took his apple over to Lucia to ask her forgiveness as well. I overheard Lucia telling him that he didn’t need to ask forgiveness for himself, but for his behavior. “Love,” she said, “God has made you a very wonderful boy and He wants your behavior to reflect that.” Josué turned toward her and asked, “Why do you call me ‘love’?” Lucia, swooped him up in a big bear hug and said, “Because YOU ARE LOVED!!!”

Despite the day-in and day-out trials, God’s love is seeping into these little hearts. He is slowly removing abused hearts of stone, and replacing them with hearts of flesh. This day, for the first time, we saw that Josué’s heart was beginning to warm and the first layer of stone was cracking off.