Years ago, Rodgers started talking about wanting to work with street kids in Mombasa. He told me this story:
The first time I came to the US, I was working at a camp. They served a big breakfast every morning, complete with all kinds of fruit. I especially loved the grapes.
When I got back to Kenya after that first summer in the US, I started missing grapes. I thought to myself, “I should go down to the market and see if I can find some grapes.”
I tried fruit stand after fruit stand, but none of them had grapes. Finally, I saw one bunch of grapes on one fruit stand. I didn’t care how much they cost; I was going to buy those grapes!
I gave the man my money and was getting ready to taste the sweet grapes when I felt a tug on my shirt tail. A small child, who seemed to have been living in the streets, was standing there.
He said, “I’m hungry.”
I didn’t want to do it, but I asked him, “Do you want some grapes?”
He did. I gave them to him.
There were no more grapes in the market, but I wasn’t in the mood for them anymore anyway. I just kept thinking that I bought these grapes because I missed them, because I wanted them. I wasn’t hungry, but the street kid was. Who knows how long it had been since he’d eaten? Who knows how long it would be until he ate again? I think about that boy often.
Ever since I gave that bunch of grapes away, I’ve had an undeniable desire to help at least one street kid have a better life. If the work I do can provide for many street kids, that will be even better.
The first time I came to the US, I was working at a camp. They served a big breakfast every morning, complete with all kinds of fruit. I especially loved the grapes.
When I got back to Kenya after that first summer in the US, I started missing grapes. I thought to myself, “I should go down to the market and see if I can find some grapes.”
I tried fruit stand after fruit stand, but none of them had grapes. Finally, I saw one bunch of grapes on one fruit stand. I didn’t care how much they cost; I was going to buy those grapes!
I gave the man my money and was getting ready to taste the sweet grapes when I felt a tug on my shirt tail. A small child, who seemed to have been living in the streets, was standing there.
He said, “I’m hungry.”
I didn’t want to do it, but I asked him, “Do you want some grapes?”
He did. I gave them to him.
There were no more grapes in the market, but I wasn’t in the mood for them anymore anyway. I just kept thinking that I bought these grapes because I missed them, because I wanted them. I wasn’t hungry, but the street kid was. Who knows how long it had been since he’d eaten? Who knows how long it would be until he ate again? I think about that boy often.
Ever since I gave that bunch of grapes away, I’ve had an undeniable desire to help at least one street kid have a better life. If the work I do can provide for many street kids, that will be even better.