It was a particularly hot, sticky summer day, and Jeffrey and I had already been traveling for a few hours when we plopped down in a stuffy bus station waiting room in northern Italy. Jeffrey was hardly speaking to me. "Did I really have to come?" he muttered.
How did I get this idea, anyway? I asked myself. Dragging a 14-year-old away from his friends and expecting that he would enjoy going with his mom to visit his grandparents. Not exactly a teenager's idea of fun!
We had another hour before we needed to catch the bus that would take us the rest of the way, and I didn't know which was worse--the stale air in the waiting room or the thick air between us. It was starting to get to me. "I'm ready for some ice cream. Would you like some?" I asked.
That usually did the trick--or at least it used to. Not this time. "No!" came his sharp reply. "I don't need it." My little boy was growing up.
My patience was starting to run out. "Well, I'm going to get some for myself," I said. "Keep an eye on our luggage till I get back." I grabbed my coin purse with our expense money for the rest of the trip and headed for the bus station café. In spite of the utter frustration I felt--or perhaps because of it--I said a prayer as I went, asking Jesus to do something to restore good communication between Jeffrey and me.
When I returned, Jeffrey was talking with a boy about a year or two older. "Emmanuel is Romanian," Jeffrey explained as he introduced us, "but he speaks Italian well. He's living in a trailer nearby with his mom and two younger sisters. He's been doing odd jobs on the side to help support his family, but he wants to get a work visa so he can find a regular job." Emmanuel was bright, well-mannered, and willing to do just about any kind of work, he said. He just needed a few euros for his visa paperwork.
"Do you know what your name means?"
"Of course--God with us!" His whole face lit up as he said that, and suddenly I didn't see him anymore as just another poor boy begging in the bus station, but an important young man who really did have God on his side.
He and Jeffrey continued the animated conversation that I had interrupted with my return. They talked about school, music, and Romania. When Jeffrey told Emmanuel that he had gone to a summer camp in Timişoara, Romania, Emmanuel lit up again. "That's where I come from!" he said. I could tell it really made Emmanuel's day to find a boy about his age whom he could talk to and relax with. Also, Jeffrey seemed very interested in this boy's life and was probably quite surprised to meet someone about his own age who was fending for his mom and sisters.
At one point Jeffrey began nudging me. Finally I caught on that he wanted me to give the rest of our little travel fund to Emmanuel. Along with that, Jeffrey gave Emmanuel one of the gospel tracts we had brought with us for just such opportunities. Suddenly it was time to say goodbye and catch our bus. Jeffrey ended our short but intense encounter with a prayer, asking God's blessing on Emmanuel and his family.
"Mom," Jeffrey whispered as we took our seats on the bus, "that was a hundred times better than ice cream!" We talked about Emmanuel until we almost reached our destination, and we talked about other things. The next four days flew by, and we had a wonderful time with my parents. It's so true that it's more blessed to give than to receive. Often when we are upset or discouraged, all it takes is a little giving to make us feel better--like a breath of fresh air.
Anna and Jeffrey Perlini are members of the Family International in Croatia.
