Tag Archives: Sponsorship

IMG_8712 Mary Wanjiru at school

A Day With Mary

The day was hot and dry. Our mission team spent the night with a Kenyan family near the base of Mount Kenya (Kenya’s largest mountain). The roosters and cows announced the rising sun, jolting us from our peaceful slumber. Suitcases had been packed the night before and were settled by the door. It was time to go.

The outdoor air was brisk; we each carried a bag and headed towards Matanya Primary school.

The children who attend Matanya Primary come from deeply impoverished families. Some are orphaned. Most are barefooted; their clothing bares the telltale signs of a difficult life. It is not uncommon for some of these children to go as long as 4 days without food. Mary, having already gone through her primary years, joined us. “I want them to feel encouraged to work hard and to never stop believing that they can make it” she said. “Hope and hard work can see them through to brighter days.”

A barefooted child stood outside of the classrooms with a metal rod and a piece of rusted steel clutched between his fingers. THIS was the school bell. The rod hit the steel, sending an urgent rhythm through the air; children poured from their dirt floored classrooms.

PORRIDGE TIME! Every year, Matanya’s Hope raises money to feed children from 3 rural, impoverished primary schools. This cup of hot porridge is often the only nourishment a child may have for the entire day. This year, Jonah, a Brown University student raised funds to feed the 250 children from Matanya Primary a nutritious meal of porridge every day of school.

Mission  participants embrace the opportunity to serve porridge to the children.

Mission participants embrace the opportunity to serve porridge to the children.

After Mary and the rest of the Matanya’s Hope team served porridge to the children, we met with those most needy. Bare footed children lined up outside of the dark stone hallway where we spread out donations of shoes, clothing, blankets, school supplies, toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, nutrition bars and more. Children in torn and tattered clothes waited with anticipation for a pair of trousers, a shirt, underwear, or a jacket. Many needed book bags, blankets… pencils, pens… soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste. The need was great. Mary understood this better than anyone! Just years before, in 2007, she too, had nothing. Her parents’ home was burned and her family lost everything. Broken and desperate, they came to live with an uncle in Matanya. Within weeks, he abused them and forced them out.

Minutes passed into hours and an exhaustion spread throughout our team. Water (a very precious commodity) and a bite of Ellen’s Quest bars helped us press on. Donations came to a bitter sweet end. A few new soccer balls flew from feet to heads to air. Cameras clicked. We played with the kids and could not have asked for a better day!

Later that night, I sat cross legged on my bed preparing to listen to Mary’s story. I could not help but notice that she was dressed well. Her hair framed her youthful face in plump, fresh braids revealing the majesty of the setting sun reflected on her high cheek bones. The nice looking tablet she was using was nearby.
Mary sat on the floor against the wall. Her knees were drawn up to her chest.

I knew I would hear Mary’s story, but I was prepared to confirm my inclination that she was ok. That perhaps she needed little help outside of school fees for college. Mary spoke; I filled with shame as her story unfolded. I cried with her as she spoke about being displaced, losing every thing and being emotionally abused.

MARY’S STORY:
“It was back in the year 2008 when life gave me a hard blow that until today I have not been able to let go of it in my mind. We had just celebrated the Christmas festivities with my grandparents and we were on our way back home when chaos broke out in our country along tribal lines. We were informed that our home town was very unsafe and hence my uncle offered us shelter. We hoped that all would be well soon. After two weeks of continued violence, we received terrible news that our belongings had been looted and our home was burnt down to ashes. This was the most painful time of my life.

We remained at my uncles place for two more weeks; he felt that we were a burden to him. My uncle’s became rude and really abused us. We had to move. My dad tirelessly looked for a job; he was without a single coin but he found a small, single room nearby. His only choice was to now go daily to search for employment on people’s farms, where he would work from sun up to sun down for less than $1 a day. Through God’s mercy, he later found a better job at a hardware shop. The lady owning the hardware place offered me and my younger brother school uniforms and stationaries and we joined school.

By that time, we had been out of school for more than half of a term and this meant that we were so much behind in terms of our studies. I felt so discouraged, as if I would never make my dreams of being a lawyer true due to the situation back at home.

My mother had been adversely affected by the turn of events and would often suffer from asthma attacks. She depended entirely on inhalers and other prescribed medicine. When she could, she would work as a casual laborer at the same farms my father worked on – from sun up to sun down – and would bring home $1 a day.

Life was very painful. I remember sometimes, especially before my dad got the job, we would miss meals. We slept hungry, on a very thin layer of foam with a very thin blanket. We would anxiously wait for the day to dawn because the place was so cold.

"I hope one day I will achieve my dream of becoming a lawyer and I will sponsor a child, like Matanya's Hope sponsored me."

“I hope one day I will achieve my dream of becoming a lawyer and I will sponsor a child, like Matanya’s Hope sponsored me.”

Back in school, I worked tirelessly and was able to catch up with my studies. I was blessed with massive support from the teachers who made me see the need to work even harder so I could raise my family out of the state of poverty. After I changed my attitude, I saw my background state as my greatest inspiration to work extra hard. God did make way for me out of nowhere. I met Matanya’s Hope and I got sponsored for my studies.

Being sponsored by Matanya’s Hope is what changed my life and made me believe that nothing is impossible with God.

I took this blessed chance to do my best; every moment I knew that I was the hope for my family. I pray that I may never let my family or Matanya’s Hope down. One day, I hope they will all be proud of me after achieving my dreams of becoming a lawyer.”

Mary’s facade melted away as we continued to speak.
“Is it difficult for your parents to provide food?”, I asked.
“Yes”. Tears followed.
She buried her face in her arms.
Are your parents educated, I asked.
“No.”
So, you will be the first?
“Yes, I am their hope.”
I was still confused about something. “Your tablet is nice”, I told Mary.
“That was a prize I was given in high school for having an A”, she shared. “I had nothing. Not a phone or any way to research. This has really blessed me.”
What do you want for your future, I asked Mary.
“I want to be the voice for the poor. That is why I want to become a lawyer. I will be able to help.”

Mary cherishes every moment  of her education.  "I want to succeed and help my family out of poverty. I want to sponsor a child as Matanya's Hope has sponsored me."

Mary cherishes every moment of her education. “I want to succeed and help my family out of poverty. I want to sponsor a child as Matanya’s Hope has sponsored me.”

Sponsorship has given Mary a promise of hope as she continues her education. It goes far beyond any financial commitment or gift; it offers our children a chance to dream again.

Hope through education.
Mary is now settled in university, officially admitted into the school of law. “I just want to do something to give back to my society” Mary told me. “I want to be able to sponsor a child in need, the way I was sponsored by Matanya’s Hope. And I really want to help the oppressed by becoming a lawyer who cares about the people, someone who can be the voice of those who are not otherwise heard.”

knowledge is like a garden.  If it is not cultivated it can not be harvested   proverb

Listen Closely to Their Heartbeats

All children have a longing to be loved and accepted by someone. But what happens to the orphaned or forgotten child? Where will they find sweetness? Who will help them build a bridge to their future?

Millions of children are forced to live on the streets. But, ONE BY ONE, we can reach these children with a gift of hope – together.

DONATE TODAY

Wangechi can now attend school thanks to her sponsor, Barbara.

Wangechi can now attend school thanks to her sponsor, Barbara.

Living on the streets is rough. The younger children get beaten by the older ones. Hunger plagues them every day and often they will do anything for a morsel of food. Like our need for food, love also nourishes the human spirit. A lack of love is like starving the soul physically, emotionally and developmentally. On behalf of these children, we come to you for hope.

Jackline Wairimu in class  at one of Kenya's Medical Training Colleges.  Thanks to the gift of hope through sponsorship, Jackline is studying to become a nurse.

Jackline Wairimu in class at one of Kenya’s Medical Training Colleges. Thanks to the gift of hope through sponsorship, Jackline is studying to become a nurse.

Matanya’s Hope’s Jackline Wairimu writes: “Your gift changed everything for me. I thank God for bringing you into my life. I don’t know how life could have been if it were not for Matanya’s Hope. At one point, I almost dropped out of school but, at that moment, Matanya’s Hope rescued me. I have been through my primary and secondary education and now I am in College studying to become a nurse! I really thank God and my sponsors for the blessing. Together, you brought my smile back.
LOVE.

Every child needs to feel as if they belong to someone.
Will you hear their cry?
Will you listen for their heartbeat?
Will you help just one of these children re-write their story to a story of hope?

DONATE TODAY
Help Matanya’s Hope reach children in need.

Sean Martin is overjoyed to receive clothing and school supplies during mission.

Look Who Just Got Sponsored!

You may already be a part of miraculous stories in your life, or maybe you are eager to be a part of the miracles unfolding right here at Matanya’s Hope. To every sponsor, prayer warrior and donor, thank you for helping us give love and hope to thousands of children in need. This story is about Sean Martin, a boy who touched founder Michelle Stark’s heart the moment she met him.

Stark tells us, “My entire being ached when I heard Sean’s story from the Director of his school.” Desperate to get her grandchildren educated, Sean’s jobless grandmother walked barefooted and hungry to a “local” primary school. The trek was monumental, demanding this elderly woman to sustain a long climb up the steep, rocky mountain roads until she reached the school gates. There, she told the director that she had no money but would bring some soon. She explained, “Sean has just been orphaned and his cousin Valerie is orphaned as well”. The director took the two children in, but months passed and the promissory fees were not paid. The children’s grandmother was unable to manage the bill. Sean and Valerie were to be sent home… Their hope for education faded. That is when I met them.

Sean smiled but I could see the pain beneath his sweet face. He needed the absolute basic necessities in life: food,shelter and love. When his mother never returned from a recent outing, Sean’s only hope was his jobless grandmother who took him into her 11 X 11 rented room. She did all she could already to support 7 orphaned grandchildren. Sean Martin now made 8.

Sean Martin, pictured after spending a day with Matanya's Hope Mission Team

Sean Martin, pictured after spending a day with Matanya’s Hope Mission Team

Stark recalls, “When I was a child, I rode my bicycle all day and played with my friends.” Sean Martin prays for a meal to eat and an education to carry him throughout his lifetime. He promised his grandmother, “One day, Grandmother, I will be educated and I will get a good job and build you a house.” He held the crayons we gave him and drew a picture of this house of his dreams.

So what does it take to help a child like Sean? It takes action and understanding that not every child has been given a chance to experience life like our children. When bad things happen to these kids, there is no way out… unless we help them. Stark says, “When I see a child finally get sponsored, when they begin to understand that their life matters and that other people care about them – when I see that, it is like experiencing a sunrise in my soul!”

This is Sean with other Matanya's Hope students at school.  Founder, Michelle Stark is pictured in the back row.

This is Sean with other Matanya’s Hope students at school. Founder, Michelle Stark is pictured in the back row.

To Sean’s sponsor. Thank you! You have changed the world for this beautiful boy!

To sponsor a child in need, please contact Matanya’s Hope: 708-822-HOPE (4673) or email us at: [email protected]

Donations are needed to help us continue the programs which reach children like Sean.

WAYS TO DONATE NOW:
Matanya’s Hope
PO Box 562
Homewood, IL 60430

Donate on this blog.

DONATE THROUGH VENMO (search for Matanya’s Hope)

Naishorwua Poster

Help Me Go To School


Yes! I Want to Help Naishorwua!

At the end of each day, I take some time to reflect. Today is one of those days.
It’s 46 minutes passed midnight. I should be asleep, but the story of a little girl named Naishorwua is weighing heavily on my heart.

I must share her story.

I ask this: please share this post.

Naishorwua after receiving shoes from MH donations.

Naishorwua after receiving shoes from MH donations.

I know that many of you will see Naishorwua’s photo and her story.
Someone out there will read it and they will feel touched to change Naishorwua’s life through her dream of education.

SPONSORSHIP:
Sponsorship positively changes lives and sometimes even saves them. Naishorwua comes from a small village in the Maasai Mara. The girl child in many Maasai villages is often sold into marriage by the time she is 9 years old. Naishorwua represents hundreds if not thousands of girl children just like her. Reaching them is critical. Many who go unsponsored are subjected to female genital cutting and forced early marriage. One at a time, we are making the difference these children hope for. By sponsoring Naishorwua, you are advocating her choice for education.

I just got word from Naishorwua’s father that on March 24, their house burned down completely. The family has no place to live and no belongings to their name. This is a critical time. Sponsoring Naishorwua means more now than ever!

Sponsorship motivates the child sponsored, their family members and the community at large.
Please: reply to this post for more information on sponsorship.

Naishorwua, front row center, lighter blue jacket and other Matanya's Hope students.  That is me in back.  Members of our Matanya's Hope team: Patrick front center.  Henry Front far right.  MH STUDENTS: Back: Taiyana, Lilian Kirokor, Valerie, Everline, Rose Muthoni  FRONT: Mugo, Sean Martins, Naini Rarin

Naishorwua, front row center, lighter blue jacket and other Matanya’s Hope students. That is me in back. Members of our Matanya’s Hope team: Patrick front center. Henry Front far right. MH STUDENTS: Back: Taiyana, Lilian Kirokor, Valerie, Everline, Rose Muthoni FRONT: Mugo, Sean Martins, Naini Rarin

DONATE
on line at www.journeytohelpafrica.com
or send your tax deductible check to:
PO BOX 562 Homewood, IL 60430
A general gift of any amount is appreciated.

Your tax deductible donation will help us reach many children like Naishorwua.
Your support means the world to us.

IMG_2636

Something Amazing Happened!

BENO wafula Poster

What pure joy it is to share with our supporters that
BENO WAFULA GOT SPONSORED!!!

Thank you everyone for sharing the story of this beautiful boy!

Beno will now be able to remain in school.
May his future be bright and his soul one of goodness!

Thank you everyone who helped make this possible!!

Michelle

BENO wafula Poster

Hope Has a Name – Beno

BENO

One of the great joys in this life is the joy of helping a person in need.
The story of Beno begs us to come close, to open our hearts and to act.

That summer heat was blistering. Nevertheless, Beno Wafula kicked his infant legs and giggled for all the world to hear. Mom, who had just arrived in from the unforgiving sun, really laughed. But that is MY mom. Beno’s mom was just a child herself.

She was a few years older than me. We lived under the same roof; my mom had raised her because without mom’s love and care, she had nowhere else to go.

Beno’s first 3 years were a pure joy. Then, his young mother met a man and everything changed. Beno was abused, neglected and often left hungry. His innocent laughter faded into the pages of history and despair took its place. They moved away and I did not see them for many years.

Little more than a year ago, I met Beno again. He really developed into a beautiful boy! But it did not take me long to take notice of his unspoken misery. Beno had started becoming a nameless statistic and I had to change that!

Pictured here, Beno just learned he would be going to school through the generousity of Matanya's Hope.

Pictured here, Beno just learned he would be going to school through the generousity of Matanya’s Hope.

I thank God for Matanya’s Hope. The founder, Michelle Stark met Beno when he was 13 years old. She could quickly see that the unfolding details of his life revealed a broken-hearted child who wanted nothing more than to be loved and to go to school. Beno slowly revealed how he suffered in the hopeless cycle of despair. Even on the days he went to school, he revealed that he went hungry and did not have a pencil to call his own. Most of all, Beno slowly shared that he was beaten and told that he would never amount to anything; he was called “trash” by the people he should have been able to trust most: his parents.

With your support, the cycle of misery can be broken for Beno.

Today, Beno is back with my mother. Matanya’s Hope sends him to school where he is receiving education, love, nutritious food and counseling. Beno’s self-esteem has improved dramatically. This is such an easy gift! The impact of our love is restoring hope in Beno’s world.

Do you want to do more than just talk about helping a needy child?

Beno's school supplies.  This is the first time he has ever had all he requires for school.

Beno’s school supplies. This is the first time he has ever had all he requires for school.

DO SOMETHING.
SPONSOR A CHILD TODAY.

Every time you give, you make it possible for something amazing to happen for a child in need.

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya
"Where you are today is a monumental part of your story...and in some years to come...it will all make sense."

AMBROSE – Journey of Hope

The Power of Hope Through Education – Ambrose’s Story

Ambrose Lanuko portrait in Nanyuki

I vividly remember the 2007 July day – hot and dry, without much breeze, but with a communal buzz of passersby and a heavy scent of lingering exhaust fumes. The people of this small Kenyan town did not have much access to modern transportation – especially that with clean emissions. Most of them were farmers and either walked or paid public vehicles to carry them. Anything motorized usually sputtered smoke and tossed fumes as an unavoidable torture to the human senses.

During this time of year, the people of Sub-Saharan Africa were experiencing drought. Community members were gathered in town for small business, waiting for the rains to come and the time to re-launch their new farming season.

I waited outside of the market. I don’t know why, but on this day, I did not want to go in. I stood on the makeshift sidewalk, observing… waiting… lost in my own world. A young boy of approximately 9 years old approached me. Though he stood on the opposite edge of the street, his eyes gently locked with mine and his unspoken story whispered straight to my heart.

Ambrose was steadfast. He engaged with my camera lens, in a friendly showcase of playful martial arts moves. His attention shifted from the lens to my eyes and back to the lens again. Dialect was not needed to speak the language between us.

Ambrose on the streets of Nanyuki during our first meeting.

Ambrose on the streets of Nanyuki during our first meeting.

When my Kenyan partner came out of the store, I was eager to tell him about my new friend. He urged me rather boldly to “let this go”…”Kenyan street children are liars”, he said with such an absolute unshakable conviction that it felt cold and shook me. “He will deceive you.” With that, his intentions were clearly laid out: I was expected to follow him to the vehicle and go home.
But I couldn’t. I could not get this sweet, little boy adorned in a torn and faded pink jacket out of my mind. I couldn’t let go of the innocent play we shared – and of the overwhelming love I felt filling my heart – I felt as if an angel stood there with me and brought this boy and I together.

“I can’t leave him”, I said.
I could see the irritation in my partner’s eyes. “I have to learn more.”, I persisted.

With a grudge powered resistance, my partner began to converse with Ambrose, “the street boy”. His first question was going to prove me so wrong… maybe the second…

We were soon in the car, myself, my partner AND AMBROSE – traveling into rough territory where we would check out if “this street boy” was telling the truth. (I had no reason to doubt him).

Our vehicle bumped through the town’s rocky terrain and splashed through whatever stagnant puddles remained along the way. The path was so narrow that at many turns, we brushed up against tall, twig like cacti. They scraped the sides of our car featuring unmistakable screeching as the auto paint was unapologetically scratched from the car.

As we rocked down the last leg of the pitted earth road, a cluster of dirt floored shanties revealed themselves. Several people stood outside watching the unusual sight of a car rolling through their alley ways. I was told to be guarded as I exited the car. Women and children stood still, captivated by our appearance. I looked into each person’s empty eyes and a sense of their desperation became mine. My heart broke for these people – even more so, it broke for my new friend.

“Here is where I live” he said. (translated for me). “I live with my crippled grandfather.” I peeked through the large gaps of 11 X 11 room, walled with deteriorating wood planks. The sunlight streamed through, highlighting the glittering flying dust and a dirt floor. Nothing else. This was Ambrose’s home. “My grandfather is crippled…” he paused. “He goes to town to beg. I care for him. I cook and I wash his laundry.”

“What do you want Ambrose? Do you have a dream for yourself?” I asked.
He leaned against the wooden planks and looked up into my eyes. “I want to become a doctor” he answered. I could hardly see. Tears were at their capacity; any more and they would spill down my cheeks!

We returned to town with Ambrose and took him to the store to purchase much needed food. I visited with him daily (for the time that I was in the area). We purchased a bed for himself and his grandfather and soon, we had a sponsor! Ambrose got his wish; he went to school.

Today, this precious child is a young man. He is in his final years of education, studying with every ounce of passion and drive in him to become a teacher. Yes, his career choice changed. Ambrose said it best: “I want to reach the youth who face challenges much like what I faced in my young life. You saved me. I want to save them.”

Ambrose during his internship - student teaching.

Ambrose during his internship – student teaching.

Ambrose’s story beautifully captures the essence of how gaining access to love and education can change a life and a community. The act of love, of listening and caring – and the gift of education empowered him to unlock the treasure trove of hope.

Literacy is more to our children than simply teaching them how to read; it opens up a new way of living. It provides a path to hope and dreams – to God’s plan for them – that otherwise may not ever be realized.

The seeds of HOPE are planted in the fertile soil of education and a loving support system. We use simple, personal ways, like playing with the children, feeding the hungry, putting shoes on the barefooted and clothing those who are dressed in threadbare material to demonstrate love for soul, here and now. Our prayer is that no child shall ever be forgotten.

Healing IS possible. It starts with a vision. It is followed by prayer and action. And… it culminates with renewed life … more than we could ever have imagined.

Your support makes a big difference!

A MESSAGE FROM AMBROSE:
“I know that I am the way I am because of God Matanya’s Hope and my sponsor, Isabel.

I could not imagine that I could reach this far. As a child, I did not know the importance of education and also being closer to God. Right now, I feel blessed and I pray that my story will be used to help the people who have lost their faith an hope in life.”
Ambrose Lanoko 2017

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya "Where you are today is a monumental part of your story...and in some years to come...it will all make sense."

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya
“Where you are today is a monumental part of your story…and in some years to come…it will all make sense.”

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya
"Where you are today is a monumental part of your story...and in some years to come...it will all make sense."

A Message from Ambrose

The Power of Hope Through Education – Ambrose’s Story

Ambrose Lanuko portrait in Nanyuki

I vividly remember the 2007 July day – hot and dry, without much breeze, but with a communal buzz of passersby and a heavy scent of lingering exhaust fumes. The people of this small Kenyan town did not have much access to modern transportation – especially that with clean emissions. Most of them were farmers and either walked or paid public vehicles to carry them. Anything motorized usually sputtered smoke and tossed fumes as an unavoidable torture to the human senses.

During this time of year, the people of Sub-Saharan Africa were experiencing drought. Community members were gathered in town for small business, waiting for the rains to come and the time to re-launch their new farming season.

I waited outside of the market. I don’t know why, but on this day, I did not want to go in. I stood on the makeshift sidewalk, observing… waiting… lost in my own world. A young boy of approximately 9 years old approached me. Though he stood on the opposite edge of the street, his eyes gently locked with mine and his unspoken story whispered straight to my heart.

Ambrose was steadfast. He engaged with my camera lens, in a friendly showcase of playful martial arts moves. His attention shifted from the lens to my eyes and back to the lens again. Dialect was not needed to speak the language between us.

Ambrose on the streets of Nanyuki during our first meeting.

Ambrose on the streets of Nanyuki during our first meeting.

When my Kenyan partner came out of the store, I was eager to tell him about my new friend. He urged me rather boldly to “let this go”…”Kenyan street children are liars”, he said with such an absolute unshakable conviction that it felt cold and shook me. “He will deceive you.” With that, his intentions were clearly laid out: I was expected to follow him to the vehicle and go home.
But I couldn’t. I could not get this sweet, little boy adorned in a torn and faded pink jacket out of my mind. I couldn’t let go of the innocent play we shared – and of the overwhelming love I felt filling my heart – I felt as if an angel stood there with me and brought this boy and I together.

“I can’t leave him”, I said.
I could see the irritation in my partner’s eyes. “I have to learn more.”, I persisted.

With a grudge powered resistance, my partner began to converse with Ambrose, “the street boy”. His first question was going to prove me so wrong… maybe the second…

We were soon in the car, myself, my partner AND AMBROSE – traveling into rough territory where we would check out if “this street boy” was telling the truth. (I had no reason to doubt him).

Our vehicle bumped through the town’s rocky terrain and splashed through whatever stagnant puddles remained along the way. The path was so narrow that at many turns, we brushed up against tall, twig like cacti. They scraped the sides of our car featuring unmistakable screeching as the auto paint was unapologetically scratched from the car.

As we rocked down the last leg of the pitted earth road, a cluster of dirt floored shanties revealed themselves. Several people stood outside watching the unusual sight of a car rolling through their alley ways. I was told to be guarded as I exited the car. Women and children stood still, captivated by our appearance. I looked into each person’s empty eyes and a sense of their desperation became mine. My heart broke for these people – even more so, it broke for my new friend.

“Here is where I live” he said. (translated for me). “I live with my crippled grandfather.” I peeked through the large gaps of 11 X 11 room, walled with deteriorating wood planks. The sunlight streamed through, highlighting the glittering flying dust and a dirt floor. Nothing else. This was Ambrose’s home. “My grandfather is crippled…” he paused. “He goes to town to beg. I care for him. I cook and I wash his laundry.”

“What do you want Ambrose? Do you have a dream for yourself?” I asked.
He leaned against the wooden planks and looked up into my eyes. “I want to become a doctor” he answered. I could hardly see. Tears were at their capacity; any more and they would spill down my cheeks!

We returned to town with Ambrose and took him to the store to purchase much needed food. I visited with him daily (for the time that I was in the area). We purchased a bed for himself and his grandfather and soon, we had a sponsor! Ambrose got his wish; he went to school.

Today, this precious child is a young man. He is in his final years of education, studying with every ounce of passion and drive in him to become a teacher. Yes, his career choice changed. Ambrose said it best: “I want to reach the youth who face challenges much like what I faced in my young life. You saved me. I want to save them.”

Ambrose during his internship - student teaching.

Ambrose during his internship – student teaching.

Ambrose’s story beautifully captures the essence of how gaining access to love and education can change a life and a community. The act of love, of listening and caring – and the gift of education empowered him to unlock the treasure trove of hope.

Literacy is more to our children than simply teaching them how to read; it opens up a new way of living. It provides a path to hope and dreams – to God’s plan for them – that otherwise may not ever be realized.

The seeds of HOPE are planted in the fertile soil of education and a loving support system. We use simple, personal ways, like playing with the children, feeding the hungry, putting shoes on the barefooted and clothing those who are dressed in threadbare material to demonstrate love for soul, here and now. Our prayer is that no child shall ever be forgotten.

Healing IS possible. It starts with a vision. It is followed by prayer and action. And… it culminates with renewed life … more than we could ever have imagined.

Your support makes a big difference!

A MESSAGE FROM AMBROSE:
“I know that I am the way I am because of God Matanya’s Hope and my sponsor, Isabel.

I could not imagine that I could reach this far. As a child, I did not know the importance of education and also being closer to God. Right now, I feel blessed and I pray that my story will be used to help the people who have lost their faith an hope in life.”
Ambrose Lanoko 2017

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya "Where you are today is a monumental part of your story...and in some years to come...it will all make sense."

Ambrose 2007 Nanyuki Kenya
“Where you are today is a monumental part of your story…and in some years to come…it will all make sense.”