This is me with my friend Terry, and another young Jamaican girl with mangoes, but no bananas.. Aren't they cute!

Read on to see what Leanne has to say about Terry!

Sitting in the cramped pew in the small church with Terry, I had sweat pouring down my face and my lips were parched. I was in Fruitful Vale, Jamaica, on a short-term mission trip to teach Bible School. We preached about God sent His son, Jesus, to die for everyone, then Jesus was raised from the dead to show us the power of God. Preaching to them had been worth every bead of sweat because I knew I was spreading God's message. This was the last time to sit with Terry by my side, and my heart was breaking.

Terry, a nine-year old Jamaican girl, always held my hand and talked to me about her life. She explained to me which fruit was safe to eat and how to eat it. She also told me that her friends call chewing gum "sweetie." When I first heard them say "sweetie," I thought they were calling me a term of endearment, but no, they were asking me for gum. Also, white people rarely ever go to Fruitful Vale, so they called us "whites." Consequently, they were fascinated to touch my white skin, look into my blue eyes, and braid my blonde hair. Most of them had never seen these features before. I loved every second of the attention they gave me, because it gave me opportunities to tell them about Jesus. While they focused on our physical differences, however, I was acutely aware that our differences went far beyond appearance.

Jamaican huts are usually ten by ten feet and are covered by lush, bright green vegetation for protection from heat. Terry and her family live by eating fruit from the trees, drinking goat milk, and bathing in the river. I thought of my lifestyle in my four bedroom house, eating three different meals every day, and having an indoor shower with heated water. These differences came rushing over me as I sat in the hot, sticky pew for the last time.

Church started, and I realized I had stickers remaining from Bible School, so I distributed them to children around me. The moment others saw this, they crowded around me and held out their hands, trying to get some before none were left. I looked at their chocolate colored skin and did not see greed; I saw hope. I gave them hope with material objects, but they gave me more hope in knowing I made a difference. I taught them Bible verses, but they taught me the true meaning of them. We taught them the "Fruits of the Spirit" from the Bible, which are "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Terry had each one of these "fruits" and so did a lot of other children there. Also, we taught how Jesus' disciples were his best friends. I asked the children to raise their hands if they had a best friend. As they raised their hands to the sky, Terry pointed at me and said, "You're my best friend." She is truly one of my best friends, too. As I face circumstances in America, I think of how Terry has impacted me and of how I wish to impact others in the same positive way.

As I handed out stickers in church that night, I gave Terry some too. After sharing with her younger cousin, she put the remaining gold stars on each of her fingernails. She held out her hands in front of me, grinning, and said, "Look! I'm rich!" I put my arm around her and tried to hold back tears. Mere stickers gave her the illusion that, for a moment, she could afford gold stars as "rich" people can. She had no idea how I lived or the extent of her poverty, but she was happy with what I gave her. When I left the church that evening, I hugged Terry good-bye and began crying again. She put her hands on her hips and demanded, "Why are you crying?" I said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to." She replied, "It's OK. I'm crying too." As tears welled in our eyes, I reminded her that if we do not see each other again on earth, we will in heaven. We said good-bye, and I left. I think of Terry every day of my life. I mailed her some packages a while ago, and she wrote back to thank me. Although I sent her toys that she loves, it saddens me to know that I can never send her what she truly needs: a safe home and healthy meals. I miss her so much, but I know God will take care of her. I just have to trust God to look out for her and make sure she stays healthy. I will always remember that church, but more importantly I will never forget Terry.

Leanne Jacobs. Jan 1999