The Eyes of Street Kids
It was hot, even by Sudanese standards. My house in Khartoum was a little dirty because of the ‘haboob’ (sandstorm) of the previous night. I knew it was dirty because I could trace my footsteps all over the house. Something had to be done. I started by sweeping the floor. After that I thought I might as well collect all the rubbish that had accumulated in my room: a pair of old worn out shoes, newspapers, a couple of worn shirts, a broken alarm clock, three or four empty Pepsi bottles, and proceeded to take it all to the local rubbish skip in main street.
A group of street kids who were hanging around there saw me busying myself at the skip. When I drove off I noticed in my rearview mirror that they were busy extracting all my rubbish from the skip to take it with them.
For me, that is how God is. God has the eyes of street kids. In the eyes of God and of street kids there is no such thing as rubbish.
Peter Major mhm