A Bike

     When we left Mercy Ships a crew member was kind enough to leave behind two bicycles.  They were a little weathered, a torn seat, some rust, flat tires and in need of some TLC.  Here's the story about one of them.

     A week before Christmas, Yvonne and I were in a bit of the doldrums.  Other than a Christmas Eve service at church, we really didn't have a lot planned.  To see our loved ones a continent and ocean away planning time together made our hearts yearn for home.

     So, when one of our friends told us he lost his housing and didn't know where he would sleep that night, the solution was readily apparent.  Yvonne looked at me, I nodded affirmatively and we had a guest for the holidays.

     It changed the season.

     Our house guest is from Toliara - light years from our home here in Toamasina.  As best as we can gather, he has five brothers and sisters from the same mother and father, and another four half-brothers and sisters.  

     His parents were too poor to support the whole cast of characters, so he and his younger brother spent their youth in an orphanage.  It was there that he learned how to read and write, that stealing was wrong, how to play the piano and strum the guitar.  It was there that he first heard about Jesus.

     Outside the orphanage Toliara is a rough place.  Bandits roam the countryside, not the least bit hesitant to kill for what they want.  It's reputation is well-known throughout Madagascar.

     Our friend has had a few brushes with them.  The most memorable was when his father, a fisherman, would not give up his day's catch.  

      Taking the first bite of the family dinner that night, Dada noticed something was wrong and warned his family not to eat.  They watched helplessly as the patriarch writhed and thrashed, his belly swelling to unnatural proportions before drawing his last breath.

     Our friend was 11 years old.

     There are other tales of woe, but the one that touched us most is his sister's story.     

     Our friend tells us of her 25-year-old beauty and love for money.  Toliara happens to be one of the poorest communities in all of Madagascar, so the concoction of physical allure, the love of money and a society that places no value on chastity, makes easy the profession of prostitution.  

     A year ago our friend mustered all of his courage to tell his sister that he loved her, but that her lifestyle was not acceptable before the Lord.  It caused a serious rift - one that she threatened would last forever.

     But within weeks, the sister fell deathly ill.  The first person she called to her bedside was our friend - her brother.  She asked him to forgive her.  He asked the same.  That night he rested his head upon her shoulder as they wept, embraced and fell into a deep sleep.

     Not long after, before she died, the sister made a last request.  "Burn my clothes."

     Here, in Toamasina, our friend walks everywhere.  He's a healthy 21-years-old, but still the days here are hot and humid.  And when we say walk, we mean walk.  Two-and-a-half miles is a stroll.  When we worked at the Hope Center some of our day crew would walk, even run, an hour to get to work.

     He makes less than $50 US a month.  He uses a portion of it to support himself.  Some of it goes to support his family at home.  He sometimes helps friends in need.  He seeks advice on tithing.  He doesn't like to spend money on buses or tuc tucs. Our friend makes people smile.

     A few days before Christmas, Yvonne remembered that one of our bikes was sitting idle downstairs.  We determined long ago that venturing into traffic on a bike was a dicey proposition.  So, she had our translator spiff it up in preparation as a gift to our guest.

     On Christmas morning the bike was dressed with silver and red ribbon, waiting for our friend to awake.  When he saw it, the reaction was indescribable. 

     Yvonne and I have sat and watched each other, our children, our grandchildren and many others open gifts, but nothing could have ever prepared us for our friend's response.

     As he stood half way across the room, we told him the bike was his.  He stopped in his tracks, covered his mouth with both hands, and confirmed incredulously, "Is that for me?"

     There wasn't any problem getting a camera ready when we saw his response because he was literally frozen in unbelief.  He finally thawed long enough to walk to the bike, touch it, stare at it, stoop and admire.  

     Then he sat on it, completely consumed by the pure joy of receiving a gift he did not expect.  A 21-year-old, sitting on a bike, completely innocent of how he might look, our friend was absorbed in ecstasy. 

     As we prepared breakfast, he sat quietly on the couch staring at the bike.

     Later that morning he told us that nobody had ever given him anything.  Never.  In his whole life.  Nothing.  He told us then he knew we loved him.

     It was a gift that Yvonne and I will never forget.  A memory that we will share forever as we spend our days here in Madagascar and beyond.

     Yvonne and I wish you the very best for 2017 and pray that the gift of love be poured out on you abundantly.