The story of my correspondence kids...

To continue from my previous post, I'd like to share how my two correspondence children, Kendy and Ulrich entered my life. I first heard about correspondence children here, on peoples' blogs. My imaginative mind thought maybe the term 'correspondence child' was some kind of secret Compassion bloggers phrase. When I found out it meant writing to children who don't receive letters, I was very enthused! 

I prayed over the idea of corresponding with a child, talked with my parents, and decided it was a good idea. So, one afternoon I picked up the phone and nervously dialed Compassion's number (I'm not a fan of talking on the phone). I was connected with a lovely Compassion representative and when she asked the reason I called I managed to say all in one breath, "Iwanttoknowhowtobecomeacorrespondencesponsor". I image she had to think about what it was I was trying to communicate with her, but she figured it out and was very helpful. A few weeks later, I got my correspondence child's packet. I cried when I saw this beautiful face...

Four-year-old Kendy from Indonesia was the little girl God had chosen for me! If I hadn't already been sold on the ministry of Compassion, this precious face was the deal breaker.

A few months later I called to correspond with another child (I'd gotten better at phone conversations, so I don't think it was quite as painful for the Compassion representative). I was told there was a long waiting list, but they would add my name. The next day I logged onto my Compassion account and saw this little guy...

Seven-year-old Ulrich from Burkina Faso! Besides being the cutest thing, he is very funny! His first letter was full of so much personality! He informed me "I am 8 years old and I like eating beans." 

Both kids have taught me a lot. Kendy has shared (through her mom who writes her letters) her heartache about her dad living far away for his job, breaking her only doll, but also the joy she receives when going to her project and the hope of Jesus Christ. Ulrich has reminded me that kids are kids, even poor children in a drastically different culture than mine. Each child has a unique personality and something important to say.