An Orphan's Story

Based on a true story ---

My name is Manuel and my story is very similar to those of many of the children who come through this amazing, hope-filled place.

My parents died six years ago, when I was only nine. Suddenly I was alone. Feelings of abandonment flooded my mind. Nobody in my community would take me in, or care for me. Sure they “watched out” for me, making sure I wasn’t sleeping in a ditch and giving me scraps of food. But they wouldn't bring me into their homes. They kept me at arms length. Outside the doors of the hearts.

I was confused and scared and hopeless. Why wouldn’t anybody truly help me?

Instead, I was forced me to work. I was told, “If you want to eat, you must work!” So I began making charcoal and selling it on the streets. It was a filthy, backbreaking job. But I got the hang of it faster than I got used to the smell. I would get up early in the morning in order to search out the best spots to set up my buckets of charcoal. I walked the roads alone, standing on street corners trying to earn enough money for food. I walked in and around the other children selling fish, or bananas, or tomatoes. I watched as young boys led their blind fathers up and down the streets begging for money. The smell of poverty was as heavy as the mid-summer heat. I would return late in the evening, completely worn out, but with just enough money to receive a small meal, usually my only meal of the day.

School was no longer an option. Like so many children, the dream of an education was replaced by the harsh reality of daily, tiresome labor. Finally, I found a man in the local market who sold handmade woodcarvings and leather sandals. Antonio was his name. He let me sell my charcoal in his stall next to him. How thankful I was to have shade and a place to sit.

Occasionally a couple named John and Maria would come by the market. There was a deep kindness in their eyes. They were always so interested in me, in my life, and in how I’d gotten here. One day, about four years ago, John invited me to live at his orphanage. He said I would have my own bed, and regular, daily meals … and that I could go back to school again! He also said that this orphanage was a place to learn about a father who would never abandon me.

I was apprehensive at first. I had heard of the cruel treatment that often takes place in some of these “orphanages.” But Antonio said that the Melanie Center was different, that I could trust John and Maria. They said I could visit first, to see if I’d like to live there.

Being at the Melanie Center has been wonderful. I have friends, a place to play, and plenty of food. I have responsibilities and chores to do too, because I know that it is important to help and work for what I have been given. The best thing has been going back to school! I enjoy learning so much and I want an education as badly as I wanted breakfast and lunch during my days on the streets.

I love living at the Melanie Center, but my story is also different from the stories of many of the children here. Older kids, like myself, often do not get adopted. Families want a toddler or an infant to love from an early age. I understand that, but it still hurts. Don’t they know that I need a caring home just as much?

In three years I will graduate from school and I’m not sure what will be next. My dream is to go to college. I want to be a doctor. John and brother Alex often talk to me about the importance of going to college and the opportunities that an education can provide. But of course, money is a problem. Alex tells me that college isn’t as expensive as it is in America, but still I can only ask, how will I pay for it? For now, I will focus on doing my best in school. John and Alex tell me to trust that God will provide.

I have learned a lot about God at the Melanie Center. I go to church now. John and Maria are both pastors. Brother Alex and his wife Melanie tell me stories from the Bible and I try to help them with their Portuguese. I am learning to build my hope in God. I am finding that hope isn’t believing that my life is going to work out as perfectly as I want, but instead it is believing that God is working through all things, no matter how my life turn out.

Hope is a really good thing. I think it’s one of the best gifts that God gives. Hope is a star that guides us through the silent night. Hope is a baby born in a stable. Hope is a Father who never lets us go.

Merry Christmas from Mozambique. 

It's All in a Day's Work

God sells us all things at the price of labor.  ~Leonardo da Vinci

If Mr. da Vinci is correct, then I’ve got a good 15-20 more years of shopping to do. That’s okay because man has been laboring since Adam and Eve got booted from the garden. Since I like having food, clothing, and a tiny roof over my little house, it’s off to work I go.

Today in the United States we celebrate our need for and our ability to work … by not working. Our country runs on the work of its citizens, and it’s a better place when we all work together. We try to work smarter, not harder so we don’t have to work our fingers to the bone. People of all ages, genders, and races contribute to our nation’s workforce. Businessmen and women often have to work the room while politicians try to work both sides of the aisle. Boxers hone their skills by working the bag and baseball hitters prolong at-bats by working the count. Creative folks produce works of art, illusionists perform works of magic, and some of my relatives think I am a real piece of work. However, I think I’m more of a work in progress.

At times our jobs aren’t easy and we have to really get down to work. We’re tasked with legwork and grunt work. We work like dogs as our bosses pile on the work and it feels like we have to work around the clock to get everything done. Of course, at home and in the marketplace, we men know that a woman’s work is never done.

As a teacher, some classes are better than others, but it seems like I always have my work cut out for me. I assign homework, but never busy work, and often have to perform detective work to figure out why little Sally is crying. After work, I usually go straight to the gym to work out. I love my kickboxing routine because I feel like I’ve really worked my butt off. Feeling worked over from the week; I usually skip the gym on Fridays.

While we’re all Men at Work, not everybody loves their jobs. According to the band Loverboy these people are simply working for the weekend. Meanwhile, Bruce Springsteen worked on the highway. While Michael Jackson worked day and night, Dolly only worked 9 to 5. Donna worked hard for her money, and the Beatles reminded us that we can work it out. But unless you’re a rich rock star like Huey Lewis, we’re all just working for a living.

As a sports fan, one of my favorite descriptions of an athlete is ‘workman-like’. Which is good because there are 10 Workmans, ranging from Brandon to Vince, on the all-time lists of NBA, NFL, and MLB players. Joe Work toiled in the NFL. Ralph Works pitched for the Tigers and Reds during the dead ball era. Ralph too died in 1941. This is very biblical, because faith without works is dead.

I like to think that I have a strong work ethic. I consider myself to be more of a worker bee. Carrying box upon box of my dad’s medical textbooks taught me to be a real workhorse. My mother encouraged me to work by attaching monetary incentives to random household chores. Money represented more baseball cards so I worked my socks off cleaning toilets and making beds until I had every card in the Topps 1977 collection.

In high school, my dad wanted me to get a taste of blue-collar work, so he found me a summer job at a local bathroom countertop factory. Talk about dirty work. A lifetime of employment ensued. I labored as a stock boy at a drug store where I worked up a sweat unpacking boxes and collecting shopping carts. I’ve toiled in the heat of a Michigan summer as a landscaper and I’ve battled LA traffic delivering airline tickets for a travel agent. I’ve waited tables, framed pictures, and made the cash register sing in a kitchen-gadget store.

As a sports information director, I spent countless hours writing media notes before each game or match. Then following the event, the notes I had perfected became obsolete. Straight to the recycle bin they went, as I set out preparing for the next game. That always bothered me and reminded me of the words spoken by a dear pastor, “Only two things live forever, people and the word of God.” While I was providing an important service and enjoying a life in sports, I wanted to invest in something eternal. Thus, a career in teaching was born.

Labor Day marks the end of summer, a season when hopefully you took a break to rest and vacation. It reminds us that while the struggle to work is real, we need balance in our lives between work and leisure. Enjoy the holiday. Do something fun. Fire up the grill instead of the sales report or the spreadsheet. Celebrate your careers and achievements. Return to your job tomorrow with a renewed sense of purpose. And just maybe, after today’s respite you’ll be at your desk, or in your classroom, or at the hospital …

… whistling while you work.

An A to Z Guide to Baseball and Politics

Baseball enthusiasts around the country will be watching tonight’s Major League All-Star Game. For sports fans and non-sports fans alike, staying current on local, state, and most certainly national politics has become more popular and important that ever before. If you don’t have a favorite baseball team, you probably have an opinion how the country is being governed. Baseball and politics have a long-standing connection. Sitting presidents have thrown out first pitches dating back to William Howard Taft. Capitol Hill has hosted hearings on everything from player strikes to performance-enhancing drugs. And sadly because of last month’s unthinkable shooting at a republican practice field, I learned that there’s an annual congressional baseball charity game. Because politics in America have become so polarized, I thought it was time to try to create some national healing courtesy of the national pastime. So from the Dickson Baseball Dictionary I bring you my bipartisan listing of baseball’s top political words and expressions.

A is for Antitrust Exemption – A 1922 unanimous SCOTUS decision that removed baseball from the antitrust laws. Or when a manager inserts a pinch hitter because he believes the batter can’t get a hit.

B is for Big League – A synonym for the Major Leagues. Or President Trump’s favorite adjective to describe his every thought, idea, plan, and policy. Also pronounced, “Bigly”.

C is for Chicken on the Hill – A homerun hit by former Pirate Willie Stargell. He owned a chicken restaurant in Pittsburgh’s Hill District. Whenever he homered, the person at the counter would receive free chicken. Also known as a congressman who votes along party lines instead of what’s best for his constituents.

D is for Defensive Average – An estimate of a player’s fielding efficiency, comparing the number of plays he makes to the number of balls hit into his vicinity. Also the statistic used to quantify the number of times a sitting president supports a policy move compared to the number of times he blames his predecessor.

E is for Ecological Fastball – A fastball that seldom exceeds 55 miles per hour. Also the name for Nancy Pelosi’s pitch to create the House Select Committee on Energy and Global Warming in 2007.

F is for Federal League – An eight-team professional league back in 1914-1915. It was the last serious attempt to establish a third professional league. Players in the Federal League were politically independents, libertarians or Green Party members.

G is for Get Naked – What a coach might yell to a pitcher who seems to be losing his concentration. Or Bill Clinton’s favorite executive order.

H is for Human Rain Delay – A batter who takes a long time preparing to receive each pitch. Also known as a filibuster.

I is for Isolated Power – A measure of a player’s performance in hitting for extra bases. Or what a president really has when the opposing party controls congress.

J is for Joe Bush – A college ballplayer, especially one who shows his lack of experience. Not to be confused with Jeb Bush.

K is for Kangaroo Court – A clubhouse tradition in which senior players assess small fines to teammates for on-field miscues such as missing a sign or not running out a popup. Currently, Reince Priebus presides over the White House’s Kangaroo Court collecting almost daily from Trump and Kellyanne Conway for blunders on Twitter and during interviews.

L is for Ladies Day – A promotional event offering women free or reduced admission to the ballpark on certain days. Or what January 20, 2017 would have been called had Hilary prevailed.

M is for Magic Wand – The bat of a player who is getting several lucky hits. Or what democrats across the nation wish they could wave to take us back to last November 8.

N is for No Trade Clause – A stipulation in a player’s contract that prohibits him to be traded without his consent. Or what Trump threatens to impose if efforts to renegotiate NAFTA breakdown.

O is for Older than Baseball – An expression conveying age, similar to “older than dirt”. Also used to describe current Congressman John Conyers, who at 88 years old, has been serving since 1965. See also Orin Hatch and Patrick Leahy.

P is for Press Box – An area within the ballpark reserved for sportswriters and broadcasters. Or a synonym for the battles between the media and Sean Spicer.

R is for Revenue Sharing – The collective term for proposals to reduce the disparity between large-market clubs and small-market clubs. See also Bernie Sanders.

S is for “Say It Ain’t So, Joe” – A famous lament that came to represent the 1919 Black Sox scandal in which Shoeless Joe Jackson and seven of his White Sox teammates were accused of throwing the World Series. Also, one of the last things President Obama whispered to his VP before Trump took office.

T is for Tiffany Card – A baseball card issued by Topps between 1987 and 1993 that was known for its higher prices. Or what Secret Service members say they’ve drawn when assigned to protect Trump’s youngest daughter.

V is for Vacuum Cleaner – An excellent fielder. While regarded as an underwhelming president, it’s a little-known fact that Herbert Hoover was a tremendous infielder before entering the political arena.

W is for “Wait ‘Til Next Year” – The plaintive mantra of fans whose team has once again fallen short of expectations. Or Elizabeth Warren’s 2019 campaign slogan.

Y is for Young Hopeful – A promising player who has not yet established a record. Or what dems had labeled 30-year-old Jon Ossoff before last month’s Georgia’s special election.

There you go everybody. Enjoy the game and play ball.

Seeing Home Through the Eyes of Lion

“Every night I imagine that I’m walking those streets home, and I know every single step of the way.” -- Saroo Brieley

And the Oscar goes to …

I thought La La Land was the best picture of the year. That is until I saw Lion. Not since Saving Private Ryan has a film so pierced my soul like Lion did. Whereas the horrors of war haunted me for days after seeing SPR, the story of Lion reverberated in my head for over a week. Lion is about being lost and loved. It’s about a longing for home and the journey to get there.

Lion opens by introducing us to five-year-old Saroo, who lives in extreme poverty in mid-1980’s India with his mother, brother, and sister. Saroo has a special bond with his older brother Guddu. There’s a unique love between the two, quite the opposite from the sibling rivalry we saw in 2008’s Slumdog Millionaire. One night Guddu and Saroo go out looking to earn a rupee. Guddu leaves Saroo on a vacant train platform while he goes off to find work. Saroo, bored, cold, and tired explores an empty train and winds up falling asleep. The train departs, travels for days, and finally rests half a country away in Calcutta. Little Saroo is lost and scared out of his mind. After a few close calls, he lands in an orphanage and is eventually adopted by a loving, middle-class family from Australia.

Twenty years later, Saroo has bulked up on some good down-under cooking and is about to embark on a career in hotel management. Dev Patel, who hasn’t had a haircut since Slumdog wrapped, plays the adult Saroo, who is anguished by the profound need to locate his home and find his loved ones. In the film’s second half, thanks to the Internet and Google Earth, he begins his search. As a boy, Saroo couldn’t adequately communicate the name of his rural village. So as an adult, he all he can do is calculate train speeds and distances to try to locate his home.

I’ve been trying to put my finger on why this movie so resonated with my soul. Yes, it’s heart wrenching to see a young child become so vulnerable. But I think it’s because, like Saroo, I’m equally longing for home.

We all had to leave home at one point. Sometimes it’s for college or for that post-graduation career. Maybe, it’s the moment you turned 18 or when your number came up and your country needed your service. For me, my home moved from Michigan to California during a summer between college terms. I went with the family to help unpack boxes. After one look at the Pacific Ocean, I decided that mom and dad needed my help in getting acclimated to the west-coast lifestyle.

But the home of our childhood or the residence of our parents isn’t quite the home I’m referring to. I believe we all have a desire for another home. According to Ecclesiastes 3:11, God has set eternity in the hearts of men. I believe we all, whether we acknowledge it or not, have this desire within us. It’s a desire to live forever in the house of God.

My eternal home is where the streets have no names and the houses don’t have addresses. It’s the place of freedom, grace, and peace. It’s void of disease and death, strife and separation, and greed and grief. It’s where the poison rain of politics and poverty, hunger and inhumanity is eradicated. It’s where my own messiness and failures will be washed away.

Jesus, in John 14, says he’s preparing a room in God’s house for his followers. He also says He’s coming back to take his followers there with him. Jesus was speaking these words to his disciples. He was readying them for his death and departure. He was asking them to trust him. They were afraid and worried. Jesus told them that their future was secure.

But having a place reserved for us is one thing; certainty in getting there is another. But Jesus continued by saying, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Unlike, Saroo, who didn’t have the foggiest idea on how to get home, the Christian has supreme confidence that Jesus will return and take his followers home. Jesus doesn’t simply point us toward home (“Turn left at the burning bush”). He is the map, the GPS, and the Waze to getting home.

I can relate to Saroo’s longing to rediscover his home. But he didn’t know what, if anyone, would be there waiting for him. The Christian doesn’t have that anxiety or doubt. The word for the “rooms” that Jesus is preparing refers to a place of residence, an abode with your name on it. They are rooms where fellowship with Christ will be renewed, with the presence of Jesus himself. They are rooms where he lives, in which he invites us to enter. Jesus is there waiting for us.

Saroo’s life changed when he started his journey home (not always in healthy ways however). But he had a goal and a destination. He had a vision. Similarly, the Christian who is longing for home has an eternal vantage point. As opposed to the temporal securities and comforts of our current home, our true home, our complete security, has already been built for us and is occupied by a builder waiting to give us the keys. This perspective changes our outlook on life, work, relationships, and priorities. It helps us to spend more time on giving and less time on getting. And this only strengthens my longing for what’s next. 

Unlike Saroo's, my life isn't the stuff of which movies are made. Thanks to an eternal vantage point, I'm not complaining. But I am looking forward to the sequel.