Hope beyond the streets

“Jesus took the deaf man aside to be by themselves, away from the crowd…”

(Mc 7,33)

A New Land, the Same Cry of the Heart

When I stepped into a new country, carrying with me the memories of my missionary life in Papua New Guinea, I thought I would be stepping into an entirely different world. Yet, I soon discovered that human suffering and longing wear the same face everywhere. What changes is only the background, the streets, the languages, the cultures. The cry of the human heart, especially of children, is universal.

In the bustling capital city of Yaoundé, Cameroon, I was deeply struck by a scene that still lingers in my soul. At the turning points of busy traffic, amidst noise and haste, stood small children some as young as seven, others barely twelve. Their fragile frames bore no possessions, no schoolbags, no toys only hope. They stood not demanding, but waiting, expectant eyes searching for a gesture of kindness: perhaps a coin, a piece of bread, or even a smile that assures them they are seen and valued.

Smiles Stronger than Poverty

It was not their poverty alone that pierced my heart, but the paradox of their faces. Despite hunger and uncertainty, there were traces of joy, courage, and resilience. Their smiles were not signs of denial but of defiant hope, a hope that believes tomorrow could be better. That small glimpse reminded me of something profound: hope often blossoms in the most unlikely places on dusty streets, at traffic junctions, in the hearts of children who own nothing yet carry everything humanity needs trust, openness, and the courage to wait.

The Gospel of Attention and Listening

This experience stirred within me the memory of Jesus and the deaf man. Amid the pressing crowd, Jesus chose not to perform a miracle in spectacle. Instead, He drew the man aside, giving him the gift of undivided attention, listening with His whole heart. That tender act teaches us something vital: love begins when we take time to notice the unnoticed, to listen where others are silent, and to stand beside those who stand alone.

The children at the roadside are like that deaf man lost in the crowd of society, unheard, unseen, often neglected. Yet, just as Jesus reached out, I ask myself: Do I extend a listening heart? Do I offer a silent prayer? Do I take a step closer, even if it means pausing in my own hurried journey?

A Call Beyond the Streets

My hope beyond the streets is not just a fleeting emotion; it is a call to action. These children remind me that mission is not confined to church walls or classrooms; it is lived in the open streets where life is raw and real. Their eyes are not asking for pity but for companionship, dignity, and a chance to be heard.

As I carry this vision forward, I wish to let my mission be shaped by what I have seen and felt. I dream of being a bridge of compassion, a channel through which forgotten children can find not just bread for the body but nourishment for the soul. I hope to create spaces where they are listened to, educated, cared for, and embraced as bearers of tomorrow’s light.

Walking Beside with Hope

This is not merely a Christian mission it is a human mission. Every culture, every faith, every tradition teaches us that children are sacred. They are the seeds of the future, and their laughter is the language of hope. My journey is to protect that laughter, to water those seeds, and to stand beside them as they grow into fullness.

So, as I look beyond the streets, I see more than poverty; I see possibility. I see hope rising from fragile lives. And I choose to walk with them not ahead, not behind, but beside. That is the mission I carry in my heart.