Friend, the author C.S. Lewis once confessed that he didn't especially enjoy the company of little children. When you think of the books he especially wrote for young children, this is a bit surprising. However, that's not to the discredit of that wonderful man. On the other hand, Francis Xavier, a Catholic missionary and theologian, had a healthy obsession with children. Amazingly, he worked a minimum of sixteen hours a day helping children, but more often he worked twenty. - Once, when he was exhausted, he went to his tent to rest for an hour, and told those around him that he didn't want to be disturbed no matter who asked for him. A few minutes later he rushed out of his tent and said, "I didn't mean a child. If it's a child, wake me up immediately."

Both Lewis and Xavier knew that children were too important to be neglected. Too important even, to leave the raising of them exclusively to their parents. The truth is, once children begin to spend more time at school and play than they do in the presence of their parents, there is a special need for non-family members to look after them. It's a true axiom, mould a child, and you mould the world; sin against a child, and you sin against the world.

In reality, there's no change without ideas and truths, but ideas and truths come wrapped up in people. And relationships with people either redeem us or damn us, but it's comforting to know that the world outside our homes, while it has its dangers, also contains good people who care for children who are not their own.

The author L.A. Banks tells a lovely story of something that happened years ago on a journey across America. It centred around a pale, weepy little boy, riding on a train, and looking wistfully down the aisle where a mother and her laughing children are having something to eat. A man across from the little boy notices his distress and asks him if he has nothing to eat. The boy says he has some food, but he isn't hungry. "I'm just a bit lonely," he exclaims. And then he goes on to say, "There's lots of them over there," as he nods at the happy children. And then he says, "and . . . they've got their mother with them."

So the man asked the boy a question: "You've lost yours have you?" "Yes," came the response from quivering lips.

The story unfolded that the boy was on his way to live with an uncle he'd never seen. And a lady from a town some way back had made him some sandwiches and had hung a card around his neck. She had told him to show it to the ladies on the train, but he hadn't found the courage to do that yet. But as he pulls the card around from inside his coat, he tells the man he can read it if he wants to. It has his name and address on it, and below that it stated, "Whosoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward."

After reading the card, the man approached the family on George's behalf, and before you Know it, George has gentle arms around him and the woman's soothing voice is gently saying, "poor, dear little fellow," as she begs him to come with her and join her children.

Friends, I love it when children meet adults who mean them no harm, who pity them in their vulnerability, and who go out of their way to make things easier as well as better. I love it when women, like that one on the train, take the trouble. George wasn't her child, so why should she bother? Perhaps it's because Mother Teresa was right: the world's greatest tragedy is to be abandoned, the world's worst disease is loneliness. To their credit, the man and woman on the train couldn't sit idly by and watch a child bear his pain alone; and while there was a limit to what they could do, they did what they could. I am so grateful that there are some compassionate people who just can't stand by and do nothing while children are enduring pain.

I hope that when my twelve grandchildren are in trouble and their loving parents aren't around, that they will find the kind of people George found, because to be fully human we need to relate meaningfully to other people. And if you would like some help in regard to this, we'd be pleased to send you a pamphlet titled: "You Can't Be Human Alone". To receive your FREE copy, write to: Discovering A BETTER LIFE, P.O. Box 1540, Albany, W.A. 6331 or Email us at: abl-alb@omninet.net.au

Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful
committed citizens can change the world.
Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.
Margaret Mead, (1901-1978)