Okay, so maybe I wasn’t so young anymore, but I still heard the call…to go on a trip to Northern Thailand to help at a refugee camp on the Thai-Burma (Myanmar) boarder. I was a missionary in Bangkok and joined with an international church there that supports an orphanage school at this camp on the Burma border. About 100 Karen orphans, who are refugees from Burma, are housed there and go to school there.
When our team arrived at the settlement, we drove our vans along the perimeter, looking in and taking photos. Nestled into a steep, lush hillside, sometimes all we could see were the thatched roofs of the tiny huts that were packed closely together. The Thai government does not allow the refugees to make any permanent structures, so everything was bamboo and thatch. After several minutes at a stop where guards were stationed along the isolated road, we were directed to enter at a gate that led to some “more permanent looking” buildings. This is not where our teams usually entered, so no one was sure what was going on.
The soldiers there asked us all to exit our vehicles, go inside a crude cinder-block building, and sit down. It was dirty and dim inside, lit only by sun light from the outside. We sat on wooden benches, prayed silently, and waited. Eventually, a Thai man in a uniform came in. He spoke in Thai for several minutes to two guards and then to Henry, our guide, and then came over to address us. With Henry translating, he informed us that he was the Camp (outpost) Commander, i.e., he was in charge, and that we did not have the right, official documentation to be there.
Finally, after much delay, he told us that he would “let us in this time”, but said, “No photographs,” and explained that he was sending a guard with us to make sure we didn’t take any. So much for a warm welcome!!! But, no worries! We were there to be with the children, and we were given permission to do that! PTL!
Putting on a carnival for the children was included in our plans for this trip, so our two vans were packed with all the needed equipment and supplies. After arriving near the school, we began to unload, and the children quickly rushed to help lug everything up the steep, rough path. Our destination was the school at the top of the hill, and we were very thankful that it wasn’t raining (as had been predicted and frequently happened), as the path was mostly dirt and rock, with two narrow tire-width strips of hodgepodge cement going up the first third. It was quite a climb! And blazing hot! But the way did have a certain beauty. There were jungle-like trees, including banana plants and bushes growing around and between the tightly packed, dilapidated bamboo huts with their thatched leaf roofs. (The camp had been there for over 20 years, but, as previously mentioned, the people are not allowed to build permanent structures.) There were chickens followed by baby chicks running this way and that, and there were a few mangy dogs around, as well as rabbits in huts and pigs in small, muddy sties. There were people here and there as well, involved in manual tasks around their huts, such as hanging laundry or digging.
Sweaty and a bit out of breath, we were grateful to reach the top and escape into the shade of the school building. The one-room building was long and narrow, tucked into the side of the hill. It had partial half walls made of woven bamboo, a cement floor, and a corrugated tin roof (which our church had been able to provide for them to replace the worn thatched one that needed to be replaced every year!) The room was furnished with old wooden backless benches which were set-up in groups as little classrooms. The “blackboards” were the shiny side of pressed-wood boards, and most were damaged or broken. Yet, no one seemed to take notice. As we all poured in and started moving benches and setting up for the carnival, the precious Karen children excitedly helped and watched.
When we finished setting up, there were booths to play games, get temporary tattoos, and eat freshly barbecued hotdogs! Of course there were prizes for everyone, including new T-shirts and new flip-flop sandals—lots of colors, styles and sizes—, as well as fun pencils, erasers, little toys, etc. Over 200 children took part. The smell of hotdogs wafted through the air, the sounds of laughter and happy voices filled the school room, and fun was had by all!
A fellow teammate and I had the privilege of helping the children select their T-shirt and flip-flops. It was such a joy to see their excited, wide-smiling little faces! But, let me tell you, by the end of the afternoon we were truly pooped! (Like I said, I wasn’t that young anymore!) We had been on our feet the whole time, busily trying to do crowd control at the same time as trying to make sure everyone got their goodies.
As things began to wind down, a small group of new children (all about 4 years old) entered the little carnival area. They had just arrived at the refugee camp. They wore very worn, dirty clothes, and had blank looks of hopelessness on their little faces. At first they were too timid to join in, but gradually they came over to our table and accepted the “prizes”.
One tiny girl sticks in my mind. She had large, dark eyes and her tiny, sad face was smeared with dirt. Her head was practically shaved, probably to fend off parasites. She wore little, sparkly green earrings (which seemed out of place) and a ragged filthy dress that might have once been yellow. She came by my table three or four times, and I finally got a little bit of a smile as she took her treasures and put them in her little carnival bag. It made me sad, but also made me think of the contrast between her and the children who had been at the school for some time. They now had hope in their eyes. And, yes, there was hope now too for this little one. She was now in a safe, loving environment and would soon hear that Jesus loves her too!
When the last game was played and the last prize collected, our team went to the structure where Henry lives. There, we were treated to a lovely Thai meal. Then, with full tummies, we headed back to the classroom, where all the children from the school came together to sing some songs for us, accompanied by guitar. They were songs of praise to God (mostly in the Karen language), and boy did they raise the roof! It was beautiful! The voices were lovely and the faces were happy and hope-filled. It was amazing to sit and worship with these Karen brothers and sisters in Christ!
After the singing, a dear fellow missionary had the opportunity to share a short message. The children sat with eager faces, ready to hear what she would say, and Henry stood by her side ready to translate into the Karen language. Just as she opened her mouth and began to utter the first sentence, a torrential downpour violently struck the tin roof above our heads. The sound was almost deafening! Going on with her message was impossible. We all laughed and waited, and then someone decided that the children could sing a few more songs—which they happily did. After several minutes, the rain softened, and my friend was able to share. She evoked responses from the children as she told a story about a boy who dreamed of finding treasure, and concluded with the Bible truth that the greatest treasure anyone could ever have is Jesus.
When the day was done, we headed to the vans, sliding down the now very slippery mud slope, the smiling children again swarmed around us, many wanting to shake our hands or give hugs and say “Good-bye” –some even in English. We loaded up, drove out through the gate and started down the road. We were caked in mud and we were tired, bone tired, but our hearts were full. God had allowed us to serve these dear children, and we had been greatly blessed in return.
What About You?
Just as these dear children loved all the “goodies” we were able to provide them, you and I love the “goodies” God has placed in each of our lives. Some may be people, some may be things, or jobs, or??? You name it. And it is right to appreciate and enjoy them. But, do we have the greatest treasure of all, the only one that really matters? Do we have, by faith, Jesus as our Savior and loving master, guiding us through this life, and assuring our entrance into heaven? All else may come and go, but if we belong to Him, His love and salvation will never fail. (See Romans 8:38-39.)
If you know the joy of having Him as your greatest treasure, I rejoice with you! If not, I lovingly urge you to earnestly seek Him. Then He will be found by you. (See Jeremiah 29:13.) And don’t worry that you are not “good enough”. None of us are. That’s the whole point! That’s why we need Him! But, as it says in Romans 10:13, “… everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Also see Romans 10:9.)