Ordinary Pencils

  Ever since I was 4 years old, my family has spent time a couple weeks before each Christmas putting together shoeboxes for operation Christmas Child. This is where you pack a shoebox full of school supplies, soap, toothpaste toothbrush, and small toys or trinkets for kids in third world or communist countries whose parents cannot afford to give them Christmas gifts.

Last night was spent shopping at the dollar store for the above mentioned items, and having fun while doing it.

Today as we packed our boxes, I glanced at the pencils I was going to put in. They were ordinary wood pencils with seemingly no real significance to the average American. My thoughts wondered to a kid somewhere far away who would look at such a small thing as a valuable treasure.

As I picked up the pencil, I rolled it back and forth in my hand, wondering if that was how I viewed that child. Had I ever really cared about where the box went, and what it meant to that person? Had I ever really stopped to think about what God sees in our hearts as we “Do good stuff to help the poor?” Yes, it is a good feeling to buy pretty things for the girls, or cool little balls for the boys, but is that the primary reason we buy it?  Is it just for some nice feeling in our gut?

My gaze fell to the rest of the items I had put in the box. There were colorful hair bands, nice smelling soap, and colored pencil crayons among others.

 I felt ashamed as I thought about my own selfish motives. Somewhere along the line, I had forgotten about the young girl that would be receiving the box. What was her home like? How did she live? And more importantly, did that really matter to me? Although there was nothing wrong with the nice feeling of helping the less fortunate, there was something wrong with my lack of compassion. I failed to understand the words of Jesus when he said to “love your neighbor as yourself.” And this, Jesus had said, is the second greatest commandment. How could I forget such an important, vital piece of my faith?

As I placed the pencils back in the box, my prayer became renewed:

“Father, could you be with the receiver of this box tonight? Teach me to have real love for this child of yours. And please forgive this selfish heart.”