A Child's Cry

Through A Child’s Cry, we intend to share the stories of children from all over the world who might otherwise go unnoticed. Our prayer is that in some small way we can draw attention to them. Children are one of the most unrepresented and marginalized members of society. A Child’s Cry is a small way that we can give them a voice. Here you will find videos and pictures of children that we meet along with their life stories.

[Meet Selbi]

After a wonderful week filled with work in Tela, Honduras this past March, it was our last day there and we were saying our goodbyes to the children at the San Juan Bosco Center when Myrian, the students’ teacher, introduced  me to a nine year-old boy named Selbi. My first impression of him was that he looked nothing like a typical Honduran.  He had a white, freckled face with light brown hair and big hopeful brown eyes.  I sat and talked to him for a while, asking him questions about his day-to-day life.  As I was sitting there listening I took a closer look at his hands.  What I saw resembled the hands of an older man who had completed many a hard day’s work.  His hands were wrinkled, calloused, and rough.  He told me about how he works at the nearby grocery store unwrapping and sorting through packages.  Mind you, this is a nine year-old boy.  As he was telling me about his job, it seemed to be completely normal to him, something that is even expected of him.

Many people have probably heard about child labor existing in some "far off developing country."  It is easy to shrug off this reality while we lead our comfortable lives, driving our nice cars, and buying whatever our hearts desire because we do not physically encounter child labor.  Today was different.  Child labor was staring me directly in the face.

Selbi has no idea where his parents are.  He currently lives with his grandmother in a nearby town, about a twenty minute drive from Tela where he works and attends school. Selbi walks that distance each day.  As I sat there looking into his eyes, this reality which has claimed so many innocent children became physically palpable to me.  He explained how his work days consist of eight physically intensive hours after which he somehow manages to attend school full time.  How could a nine year-old handle such intense responsibilities requiring him to provide for himself and his family?

His experience changed my life. I am so blessed to be living in a country where child labor laws are enforced, where children get the opportunity to actually have a childhood.  I hope I never forget my encounter with Selbi.  I hope that his experience will not only motivate me but also countless others to fight against child labor.

But what can we do to offer hope to others such as this little one?  It starts with me giving up a little bit of what I have (time, creativity, money) so that others may have a little bit more.  That little bit more can mean a meal, some clothes, an education, a roof over his head, and even an opportunity to be a kid. I can’t wait to go back to Honduras and continue the work that the Lord is doing there. He is moving in mighty ways. He is going before us, paving the way. This confidence is what gives me hope in circumstances that call for despair.  We read in John 1:5 that "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."   Perhaps someday child labor will be abolished in Honduras, but until that day I will fight for the boy whose hands tell his story.

[Ioana]