“It is better to give than to receive - sometimes, in more ways than one,” said my Sunday school teacher one bright October morning. With no further introduction, he inserted a DVD into a projector. The Sunday school class leaned forward expectantly in their seats. The lights blinked out and I found myself sitting in the middle of a Haitian orphanage. Sad faces surrounded me. Scores of children who had never had parents, love or joy all waited, watching. They were sad, tired and lonely. Nobody had ever loved them, hugged them, or told them they were special. And none of them had ever had anything of their own. All of a sudden, five American missionaries entered the room, carrying huge cardboard boxes. “Merry Christmas,” they cried, opening their packages. Inside were dozens of brightly wrapped shoeboxes. The children’s sad faces brightened as each received his or her own package, along with a booklet about Christianity. After a short prayer, wrapping paper filled the air as the children tore open their gifts. As I looked around, each face bore an expression of immeasurable joy. A young girl cradled a handmade doll in her arms, a boy laughed with delight as he held up a large softball, and a toddler admired her new box of crayons.
As the video continued, a narrator told about Operation Christmas Child, a program run by Samaritan’s Purse that sends shoeboxes full of Christmas gifts to needy children in third-world countries. The shoeboxes full of toys, clothing, candy, hygiene items and school supplies fill poor children’s lonely hearts with love. Watching further, I was transported to remote areas of Asia, Africa, and the Middle East, as poverty-stricken families and neglected orphans received hope, love and joy in the form of simple, cardboard shoeboxes. Then, suddenly, the video ended, leaving me blinking in surprise as the fluorescent lights flickered back on in the Sunday school room. The teacher popped the disc out of the player and said, “Kids, this year our church is participating in Operation Christmas Child. It would be great if each child could pack a shoebox this holiday season.”
As the rest of the class filed out of the Sunday school room, I sat there, dumbfounded. Every one of my Christmases had been full of smiles, laughter, family togetherness and joy. But the children in the video never had a real Christmas until last year. And, countless others like them would still spend this Christmas in poverty and gloom. I thought to myself, What if it could be different? And what if I could help? I decided right there that I needed to do something about it. So, I saved my money and filled one shoebox with pencils, a stuffed animal, candy and some toys. It felt great to be helping someone in need - and it was surprisingly fun! Inspired, I decided that next year, I would continue to fill shoeboxes. So I made a shoebox piggybank where I dropped loose change, saving up for future shoeboxes. For the next few holiday seasons, I opened the coin box, counted my savings, and filled and shipped a few shoeboxes.
As time went by, I began to notice changes in myself. Instead of watching television or shopping for clothes, my time was now spent filling shoeboxes. Things important to so many other kids my age - like popularity, celebrities and possessions - faded into the background as I focused my attention on the children overseas. As I organized my three younger siblings to help with shoeboxes, my leadership skills stretched and strengthened. Over the course of three years, through working together with my siblings, saving money and spending wisely, I sent 14 gift-filled shoeboxes overseas.
As October of 2008 arrived, I called a meeting with my brothers and sister. Although excited with the past years’ shoebox results, I hoped for more this holiday season. I set a target of 10 shoeboxes in one year and my siblings promised to help. The 10-box goal seemed achievable at first, but after some quick calculations, I discovered that because of the $7.00 per shoebox shipping fee, the cost to send ten boxes would far surpass the savings in my coin box, which added up to an abysmally low $15.00. But I determined then and there to somehow raise enough funds. My siblings and I set our minds to cooking up the best money-making plan. We thought of carwashes, yard sales, and dog walking jobs. We considered selling handmade toys, and even holding huge lemonade stands on our sparsely-trafficked rural neighborhood. Nothing seemed quite right, but we all agreed that it had to be BIG. We finally decided on an all-homemade bake sale. It seemed like a good idea. But I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
The next day, I went a bit out of my comfort zone and wrote a letter to the pastor of our church, requesting permission to hold a bake sale in support of Operation Christmas Child that November. After several weeks, I receiving an enthusiastic go-ahead from the elder board, and I began work in earnest. I calculated how many baked goods the 200-member congregation was likely to consume, then decided on low-cost recipes. As the designated Sunday approached, I baked mountains of cookies, breads, candies and muffins. My siblings made posters for the sale, making sure to emphasize that “All Proceeds Benefit Operation Christmas Child”. I designed a pamphlet for the church bulletin that advertised the bake sale for Operation Christmas Child. Enjoy some homemade goodies, it read, and save a child’s Christmas!
When the day of the sale finally arrived, two banquet tables full of baked goods awaited the congregation after the service. Everyone seemed to love the idea of a sibling-run ministry project, and to our delight, everything sold! After counting up our earnings, we discovered that the sale had made $202.75! That year, we filled and shipped 12 more shoeboxes!
At this point, I realized that it might be time to take this project to a new level. What if, instead of a one time thing, the bake sale happened every year? And what if, each year, it got bigger and better? In the years that followed, I held five additional bake sales. Because we usually scheduled the sales for the Sunday before Thanksgiving, the amount of goods that people wanted to buy increased. My siblings became more and more involved, helping to bake for, plan and execute the sales. My brother baked his signature banana muffins, and my sister made hand-woven potholders. My youngest brother rolled fudge balls for truffles, and curled ribbons on baggies of oatmeal cookies.
This stretched my organizational and leadership skills to their limits. It wasn’t always easy to manage time, money, siblings and the shoeboxes themselves. Everything had to be perfectly planned. One of the hardest aspects of the bake sales was calculating the prices and overall profits of all the products. After figuring out the price per pound or cup of each baking ingredient, I could predict the profit of each product. By buying in bulk, we could get flour for 7¢ per cup, and eggs for 17¢ each. I added up the cost of each cake, loaf or cookie, and we majored on the items that cost the least to produce. For example, the materials for pebble-top oatmeal bread cost only 80¢ per loaf. At the sale, each loaf sold for $6, producing an 85% profit! The November 2010 bake sale raised over $1,000.00, with the total money raised in five years totaling $3,071.71! This past December, 100 of our shoeboxes were sent to children around the world. A new barcode tracking system sent me an email every time a shoebox arrived at its destination. Because of this, we know that the children in the Ukraine, Malawi, Tanzania, and Congo have received our shoebox gifts.
Today, as my passion grows, my room is full of boxes, accounting books, and crates of supplies. Our aunt works for a major shoe manufacturer, and keeps us supplied with as many empty shoeboxes as we need. I shop year-round for sales, bargains and clearance items. In all, I’ve filled over 220 shoeboxes which have been sent to areas as remote as the Middle East, Africa, Asia, and Jamaica. As I filled my first shoebox, I had hoped and prayed to change one life for the better. Now, as I survey my room full of 120 new shoeboxes in progress, I hope and pray for the same thing. If my work with Operation Christmas Child betters the life of even a single boy or girl, my effort has not been in vain. With each shoebox comes hope, joy, love and the assurance that somebody cares. I couldn’t be happier knowing that not only am I changing the world, but I’m also changing my own life - one shoebox at a time.
