Daraja Kids Sing and Dance Their Way Into Our Hearts

The moment they came bouncing into the sanctuary and began their rhythmic clapping I was fascinated. The Daraja Children’s Choir- hailing from the most underdeveloped areas of Kenya- visited and performed at my church recently, and they certainly didn’t disappoint. Their voices were heavenly and their praises sincere. They sang, danced, clapped, whirled and twirled. I don’t think God would mind me saying they rocked the house. In a holy manner, of course. Each of them at some point made their way to the microphone, introducing themselves and reciting their favorite Bible verse and its importance to them. When they exited the same door they entered, I looked at my watch in amazement. The hour had flown by and I wanted more. I would get more. My wife and I agreed to serve as a host family for some of the children. We were joined that evening by an American adult chaperone and two of the Daraja Choir boys. We were told in advance they would eat anything, wouldn’t care for television or video games, and would possibly jump up and down on the bed to test out the springs- a luxury they couldn’t experience back home. Except for the bouncing on the beds, Rodney and Spencer followed none of the predicted behaviors. They ate some popcorn, but they didn’t care much for the apples and caramel dip we offered them the night they stayed. Nor were they excited about the chocolate chip cookies that normally melt in the mouths of sweet-toothed kids. They were extremely polite with their refusals, and you couldn’t help but wish American kids were as mannerly and as willing to deny themselves sugar. They loved the Wii games in our playroom. Especially bowling. Then it was upstairs for Nascar racing on Playstation II. Spencer even admitted that his favorite host houses were the ones with Guitar Hero. “I love that song Slow Ride,” he proudly stated, “You know, the one that says to take it easy.” Until then I had felt a little guilty that maybe we were negatively influencing these precious children. But then I realized they like to have good, clean fun just like my own kids. Guitar Hero notwithstanding. Rodney and Spencer hugged my kids goodbye the next morning. In a few short hours they had touched our hearts. We returned them to the church and watched as they posed for pictures around the Christmas tree. Every one of the 23 choir members gave me an unconditional hug goodbye before heading outside. Their bus was a former Greyhound passenger type that leaked antifreeze all over the church parking lot. They couldn’t run the heater so the kids all bundled up in blankets and crammed in next to each other, prepared to enjoy the hour and a half ride to the next destination. They waved and smiled ear to ear as the bus exited the parking lot- and I couldn’t help but wonder where the roads of life would lead these marvelous creations of God. Despite the chill of a cold morning, a warm feeling engulfed me as they drove out of sight. The Daraja kids had all they needed to be joyful in life. They sing the praises of their Savior daily and when life is cold, they huddle together for warmth. They’ll be just fine.