Go Buy Four Boards and Take Him Away

Here is another story from my Scripture Union packet.

The nightmare started ten years ago for Luis. He was then seven and already lived in the streets of the jungle town of Pucallpa. Hungry and fearful, he strayed further and further from home.

By helping load river boats, he was able to go from village to village, always moving on when he wore out his welcome. His only beds were the dusty streets, as close as possible to the market stalls where he often found women who would give him bread, or the root of the yuca, or hopefully a piece of fish, usually the head.

He eventually hit the big river, the mighty Amazon itself. This led to life in the city. Whatever innocence he had had as a child was now gone. Whatever dreams he had dared to dream had long since been shattered. Haunted by old fears, by hunger and pain, he sank deeper and deeper into the darkest side of Iquitos.

There it was in early December that Scripture Union staff worker, Juan Davila, lifted Luis off a filthy pavement surrounded by garbage. His body was consumed and he could no longer eat the scraps which people dropped as they passed by.

"Don't pick me up. Don't help me. I want to die," the boy pleaded. But Juan and one of our other kids who himself had been rescued from these very same streets, lifted him up and brought him to our Center.

Two days later, gasping for breath, Luis was taken to the hospital. The facilities there were very basic, but the doctor was agreeable and gave the boy oxygen while Juan went out to look for blood.

The following morning, pointing to Luis, who looked more lke a skeleton than anything else, the doctor said, "The boy's lungs are completely gone. He is in the very last stage of tuberculosis. I can do absolutely nothing for him. I suggest you go buy four boards and take him away. He is dying."

Luis heard this and now cried out, "Please help me. I want to live."

"Doctor," said Juan, "I don't plan to nail together a coffin. The boy has to live. May I make a deal with you?" He hesitated, and then continued, "You, as a man of science do your part, and I as a Christian will do mine." Dr. Jimenez agreed and treatment continued.

Other boys from our center offered to help. Tito slept beside Luis on a cot to let him know that someone cared. Pancho looked for the Pastor of the church he now attends, and this man of God led Luis to saving faith in Jesus.

Three weeks later, Dr. Jimenez called Juan to the side, introduced him to four young interns and asked, "Would you please tell me and my students what it was you did to make this boy live?"

"Well, doctor," said Juan, "you were able to..."

"No, Juan," interrupted the doctor, "That is precisely the point. What I did could not have ever brought Luis back from the door of death." Juan was able to testify to the power of God and of believing prayer.

A week later, the hospital went on strike. The doctor waived his fees and all hospital charges, and Luis was brought 'home' to us in an ambulance.

I talked to him last night. He is still weak. He can, however, stand up and take some steps. He is still skin and bones, but I have seen him smile.

"Do you feel a little better?" I inquired.

"Yes, Jesus is making me well."


Pancho's grandmother burned the soles of his feet so that he couldn't run.

Juancho was used as a soccer ball by police until his forehead was disfigured.

Chiqui's father beat him with rebar before tossing him into the streets.

Wilmer was abandoned in a city of 8 million at age 4.

Paco was too small to steal and get away, so instead he exchanged sexual favors for food.

Luis lived in fear that his father would use him as live bait for piranhas.

Smoking the fungus that grows on human excrement will usually put Carlos to sleep.

Alex is 8. His mom works the streets and he was getting in the way.