The Yellow Shirt

"Mommy, Elton always wears the same shirt.  I think he likes the color yellow." J. said to me one afternoon recently.  Knowing the population of J.'s school I explained to him that his classmate Elton might only have one or two shirts.  Unlike his closet full of clothes, many of his friends likely didn't have the same.  Having this conversation with J, was something we had sort of hoped would happen when we enrolled him in his school.  While that might sound strange at first, let me explain.  We essentially had a choice to send J. to one of two schools.  The first school is a few blocks from our home.  It has a strong reputation in the neighborhood and most of the children who attend are for the most part like us; middle class with educated parents.  The other school is in the neighborhood next to ours.  It's a low income neighborhood.  Most of the children are immigrants themselves or first generation Americans.  Over eighty percent speak a language other than English at home.  The school was brand new last year and was near where I was working.  I had met with the principal and was very impressed with her and her vision for the school.

 I think for many people the choice of schools would be a no brainer.  Go with the "good" one.  Go with the school where J. would be able to relate to his peers and see them around the neighborhood.  I personally struggled with the decision and for the most part felt the first school was the obvious choice.  But there was something nagging at me.  More than anything else, we desired very strongly that our kids understood how much God had blessed them in so many ways.  It's one thing to explain this to them and it's a whole other thing for them to see this and understand it for themselves.  One of the things I used to imagine when we were deciding on schools was the kind of birthday parties we would attend.  We already had a taste of our neighborhood parties from preschool.  They were fun, great, but elaborate.  We knew we would never measure up in this area for our kids, nor did we strive to.  On the other hand I knew at the other school there probably wouldn't be birthday parties. In the end after much thought and prayer we sent J. to the school further away from home.

 We've been happy there with the teaching and the leadership, but it wasn't until J. came home noticing his classmates lack of wardrobe variety that we had our first taste of the teachable moments we had hoped for.  The result of J.'s statement led to a discussion about how many people have so much less than we do.  What followed that was better than I could have hoped for.  "Mommy, maybe we can get him some shirts." J suggested to me.  And we did.  A few days later in collaboration with his teacher J. brought Elton a bag of new shirts.  He knew not to tell him who they were from or to tell other kids in the class.  We explained to him that more important than anyone knowing he had done it, was knowing that God was pleased with him.  I am so thankful he had the opportunity to be a blessing to a friend and to know he was.   J. was able to tangibly understand this verse, "And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased." (Hebrews 13:16 NIV84). I'm sure there could be many other ways we could have taught him this, but his experience in school allowed God to orchestrate the lesson for him and I'm glad for that.