A Christmas Story

One day, just a few days before Christmas, a little boy was looking for a place to lay his head and rest. He went to his Aunt’s house in Kibera slum, where his mom lay coughing up blood, but his Aunt said, “there is no room for you here.” He went to a church, but the pastor said, “there is no room for you here.” He went to the children’s AIDS hospice, where his brother lived, but the lady said sadly, “there is no room for you here.”
The little boy made himself a bed out boxes in a ditch. That night he dreamed of a soft bed, with a red Masi blanket.
The next day he went to a mosque that gives alms to street kids. He said thank you for the 20 shillings they gave him and asked if there was a place he could sleep. They said, “There is no room for you here.” He bought bananas, but he dreamed of eating a Christmas feast of goat and sweets.
The night he slept in his box in the ditch. He had just begun dreaming about shoes for his tired feet when he was woken by a police man with a stick beating him away. His tired feet ran, pitter patter, over the cracked pavement, broken glass and rotting garbage, and away from the police man.
He ran and ran and ran, until he found himself on the outskirts of Nairobi. The Ngong Hills rose up like seven knuckles and above the tallest peak was a bright star. The boy decided to climb to the star. His feet bled and his stomach rumbled but up, up he hike.
Along the way he was joined by Masi with their cattle. “Where are you going?” he asked them. “To the star,” they said. The little boy followed them and just before dawn they reach the highest peak and the star shone down illuminating all of Nairobi.
The little boy was tired and curled up on the grass. One of the Masi wrapped a red blanket around him and said, “if you dream under that star, your dreams will come true.” The little boy nodded sleepily and fell fast asleep.
He woke to the sound of children laughing. All around him little kids in new shoes were running up and down the hill. He smelt a sweet smell in the air and before he knew it a big boy thrust a bone under his noise. “Want some goat?” the big boy said.
The little boy hadn’t eaten meat in years and quickly munched on the bone. All of a sudden he didn’t feel tired any more. He ran up and down the hill with the other kids. One of them noticed his bleeding feet and handed him a pair of blue shoes, “you can have these ones, I have two pairs” he said. The little boy danced in his new shoes to the drumming and singing of the other kids. One of the big boys handed out sweets and said, “ok let’s get going,” and all the kids started to run down the hill.
The little boy ran after them calling, “Wait can I come.” The other children replied, “Of course, there is room for you here.”
The little boy found himself in a simple house, with a big room full of bunk beds – the sign over the door said Emmanuel Center. The children pointed to one soft mattress and said “you can sleep there,” and the little boy spread his red Masi blanket over it. “Merry Christmas,” he said to his new home.

I love to tell stories about the boys at Emmanuel Center and, while this isn’t a true story, I often think of the street kids in Nairobi when I hear the story of Mary and Joseph and how there was no room at the inn for them. There is no room for the 250,000 street children in Nairobi in most homes or orphanages in Kenya. Even more sadly, there is no room for them in the policies of governments and agencies that ignore their suffering. Even Emmanuel Center can only house, feed and educate 40 at a time. But we try to help those we can, hoping to remind them that they do a space in the hearts of people who care. This Christmas please consider sharing some of your Christmas joy with street kids in Nairobi. You can donate online at www.emmanuelcenter.com