The sound of rhythmic clacking jarred me from my slumber as my train wove its way across north-central India. The odd noise became louder and louder until its producer, a young boy in dirty clothes, stood before me, deftly clicking together two small, flat rocks.
His performance over, he stared at me expectantly.
“Oh, dear, he wants money,” I said to my colleague who was sitting beside me, “I haven’t had a chance to exchange dollars for rupees, but I so wish I could give him something.”
“Give him your extra sandwich,” he replied.
Wouldn’t that be disappointing? I wondered. But I bent down to retrieve the second of two bread-and-butter sandwiches that had been graciously prepared by the wife of my host. I hadn’t been hungry enough to eat them both.
The boy took the aluminum foil-clad package, unwrapped it slowly, and gazed curiously at its contents. Gingerly, he raised it to his mouth and took a small bite. Then, he chewed and chewed, his face expressionless.
Maybe he doesn’t like it, I thought. Maybe he isn’t hungry. Maybe . . .
Suddenly, his big, black eyes beamed with wondrous delight. It was as if I had given him a shiny, new bicycle.
“Do you like it?” our host asked him in Hindi.
“Oh, yes!” he exclaimed. “It’s delicious and sweet. I’ve never tasted anything like it!”
Our host turned to me and said, “He says to tell ma’am thank you very much. He is so happy; he can’t believe he has the whole sandwich to himself.”
As the boy continued to savor one tiny bite at a time, I noticed that he broke off the crusts. He must not like them, I thought. Or maybe he’s not that hungry.
Then, at his bidding, a small girl appeared at his side. She held out her hand, and he filled it with the crusts. She was so excited. “This is my sister,” he said.
My eyes filled with tears. I wished my host’s wife could have seen her gift pass from one eager hand to another that day.
I thought of Jesus, the bread of life, and all the people sitting around me, hungry for food and something more—love, meaning, and hope.
And I thought of you. Each time you support the mission offering or Global Mission, you share a gift that fills one life, then another, and another as it’s passed along. Thank you, dear reader, for sharing!