Yesterday I wrote about a boy named Riley Choate. He endured so much abuse and died as a result.
Today I walked into a gas station and I saw a little boy. He looked maybe 5 or 6 years old. He had a very sweet face. I looked at him and wondered, "How many little Riley Choate's are there walking around?" They don't hang signs around the necks of abused children. They don't carry around scarlet letters that say, "Hey, Help me, I'm being beaten every night or molested every other day by a family member." Yet, we know they are out there.
I approached this sweet, sweet boy in the gas station. I immediately felt the love of Jesus pouring through me, I wanted to simply reach out and hug this little boy. But we simply don't do that in our society. Someone might have me arrested. It's a sad fact that lines of right and wrong have been blurred.
So I patted him on the head, smiled, and said, "Hello." He smiled back. I engaged him a little banter. He was so precious.
I felt a love for his mother, as well. She was friendly. She was young, but I could see that her teeth were black. She was talking to someone and cursing. I don't know why but I felt a little sorry for the boy. I don't judge his mother. I want the best for them. I only hope that the boy is getting the love he needs and deserves. How many little Riley Choate's are out there? How many do we encounter on a daily basis but never know the truth about the horrors of their little lives?
How many? I told the little boy that Jesus loved him. He kindof followed me around the store. Or maybe I followed him..I don't remember.
He watched me the whole time I was there. His little eyes followed me around. I showed him attention. I told him how cute and sweet he was. I told him that Jesus loves him. Hopefully, he'll remember those small things if one day he ever feels that hope is lost.
I said a prayer for this sweet, sweet boy.
Today, reach out in love. Small acts of kindness can make a huge difference.