Dear Demar

Dear Demar,

I met you in your native Jamaica just a few days ago. We were greeted by your soft voice and joyful wave when we saw you. You were a hardworking young man with a sweet spirit about you. As you worked diligently on the grounds of a beautiful resort, you had the happiest smile and attitude. You greeted us with warmth and made us feel so welcome. I spoke with you, and you were well-mannered and ever so kind. My guess is that you weren't more than about 14 years old. You touched our hearts.

I engaged you in conversation and offered you a water bottle and some food. You happily enjoyed these meager treats. Perhaps I unknowingly endangered your job by offering you these things, but you were hungry and thirsty while working in the hot sun. After meeting so many of your native Jamaicans, we found ourselves with a humble heart for the people of Jamaica. We were told that many people long to leave the island to visit the US, but that your government has made it nearly impossible for you to do so. This broke my heart. You live in such a beautiful place, but some of your people live in squalor. Some of you have a strong desire to leave your beautiful country, with its blue waters, gorgeous beaches, and tall mountain peaks in order to see our disorderly cities that entice you with visions of everyone being rich and powerful. If only you knew the truth. If only we could make a difference in your lives.

As we ended our conversation, you said one last thing to me. "M'am, when you leave, will you take me with you?" Oh, how I longed to reply, "Of course I will!" Instead, I looked into your big brown eyes, brimming with tears, and with tears in my own eyes, sadly replied, "I wish I could, Demar. I wish I could."

What I didn't know then is that I did take you with me. I took you with me in my mind as we drove away from the resort. You were with me as we crossed your beautiful wide ocean and left your wonderful ocean breezes. You were with me as we drove home from the airport late that night to return to our home. You have been with me ever since I left your native Jamaica. Demar, it is my prayer that we will live our lives in a way that DOES make a difference for people like you, whether you are in Jamaica or right down the street. People like Melissa make a difference every single day. Melissa and her husband, Trey, at Mercy Street Dallas and others like those at Desire Street Ministry help those less fortunate every day. They are making a difference with how they live their daily lives. My prayer, now that I have taken the memory of you home with me, is that the Lord will continue to give me a heart for others, and that we may use what blessings we have been given to help others. Demar, I did take you with me, and I hope to see you again.