These are my children 


You are about to read a beautiful writing for which I cannot take credit. One of my friends, a high school senior in my school, wrote this essay for a Literature class assignment. I had the privilege of reading it. Its message resonated deeply with me, and I asked her permission to publish her writing. So without further ado, I present to you…

These Are My Children

by Christine

“Wha-what, Lord?”
“Get ready. I want to show you something.”
Dumbly I obeyed. Stumbling out of bed, I pulled on some clothes and followed Him out of the door.
As we stepped out of my bedroom, we entered the slums of a city. A child leaned against a wall and watched blankly as we passed. We walked down a street with mud huts on either side. Here and there I saw meagrely dressed children playing imaginary games in the dust. Finally we entered a dimly lit, poorly ventilated hut. A woman lay on the dirt floor, moaning. A young girl sat close by with a cup of what looked like a poor excuse for water.
“Why doesn’t anyone take this poor woman to the doctor?” I asked, turning to the Master.
“There is no doctor that would treat her,” He responded sadly.
“Why not?”
“She is an outcast of society.”
“Well can’t someone at least get her a cup of clean water?”
“It is impossible to get clean water in these parts of the city,” He replied patiently.
The forlorn look in the child’s eyes made me long to take a turn at her mother’s side, but just as I moved to help, the Master gently took my arm and turned me around. “Come, I want to show you another place.
The echo of bloodcurdling screams and gunshots greeted us as we passed through the doorway into the next place. Women and children, barely covered by shreds of cloth, huddled behind every possible obstruction for safety. The terror in the air sent chills up and down my spine.
We slipped by the fighting and stepped into the depths of a dank, unobliterated building. I wondered why the Master would have lead me here. There was a lull in the chaos outside and through the semi-darkness came a weak cry. Slowly I made my way toward the sound.
An uncovered baby lay on the cold, cement floor. The gaunt figure of its body showed that it had been abandoned a number of days before. I bent over to pick it up. Again the Master gently turned me around and lead me to the door.
For the first time I looked at my Guide’s face, all I saw was love and sadness. “Why did You take me to these places, but not let me help the ones that needed it most?”
He looked down at me, His eyes steadily looking into mine, “These are My children and I love them, but you have done nothing to help them in their distress. I wanted you to see the need that these children live in. To give you a burden for them.”
Suddenly I awakened to find myself back in my bed and drenched in sweat. My heart pounded. It must have been a dream.




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