Madagascar

October 2010.
Over two and a half years ago.
I wrote around 115 letters to be put in shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.
I can remember praying over that stack of purple cardstock with my youth pastor and friends.
I can remember praying nights after that.
I prayed for a penpal.
I prayed for someone to connect with from a foreign country.
Because how cool is that?!
I prayed the boxes would arrive safe.
I pictured kids tearing through boxes on their Christmas day.
I pictured their joy.
But I also selfishly prayed I would get something in return.
I prayed for a reply.
At least one reply.
I wanted the hours I spent hand writing each letter to feel worth while.
I wanted to hear back from at least one appreciative kid that the efforts were worth it.

But I didn't.
And after a few months I lost hope.
No big deal though right?
Everyone had warned me before writing how slim of a chance it would be that I be written back.
They told me how the language barrier in the country most of these boxes would be sent to would be enough to discourage kids from writing back.
They told me the possibility of having maybe only a handful of translators in each village.
They told me not to be disappointed when I don't get one back.

But I wrote anyways.
Letter after letter.
With that little hope that maybe I would.

But then out of nowhere, on June 27, 2013. I received a letter.
From a girl named Sachricia.
Who lives in a village called Maromandia in Sainte Marie Madagascar.

She wrote how she walks 3 kilometers everyday to school and how she prays daily for me. She mentioned how she had sent one letter before and never got a reply.

What a beautiful lesson of never losing hope.
Never giving up on the power of our God!
I am blessed!