On the Streets of Salvador

By Joann Hogansen

Perhaps you have heard of them, or seen a report on "20/20" or "60 Minutes." It can't be that bad, you may have thought. There aren't that many homeless children in Brazil. Let me tell you, it is that bad, and there are that many. The problem of homeless children wandering the streets of Brazil's major cities is staggering. The sight of these dirty, undisciplined children, running the streets in packs, fills your heart with fear and compassion at the same time. They are the refuse of society, children without value, without hope, and without God.

We arrived in Brazil in September 1991, beginning a mission that touched every member of our family. Even our seven-year-old Amy said, as we paced through the airport in São Paulo, "Look, Daddy, there is a Brazilian. Go get him saved!" We were teaming up with veteran missionaries, Dick and Mavis Buck, to plant a church.

We did that. Bethany Baptist Church of Stella Mares held its first service in November 1992. By Brazilian terms, Bethany Baptist is considered an upper-class church. Most members own nice homes, and arrive at church in cars. They are able to tithe and give offerings above that. As the love of God filled their hearts and they became aware of the lostness of the world, several said, "Pastor Timóteo, we need to do something for the street kids we see every day."

We felt that way, too. It is not easy to drive your car past hungry children begging for money to buy a piece of bread. Our hearts ache handing them 10 cents, when they need far more than money. We could not ignore the masses of children living on the streets two blocks from our front door.

In January 1998, Bethany Baptist Church started to work with street kids. All of the participants, including the missionary pastor and his wife, were a bit leery, but with faith in God, and the belief that doing something is better than doing nothing, we began. We went to the sidewalk where a large group of kids hangs out. Gathering them around we said, "Kids, we see you here all the time, sleeping on cardboard boxes, begging for money, and eating from garbage cans. We care about you, and we know Jesus loves you. We want to come every week to teach Bibles stories, verses, and songs. We will teach you to write your name and draw pictures. We will give you lunch and if you are sick or injured, we will try to help you. But you must obey the rules: You cannot smoke or sniff glue; you can't drink or be violent. To get a meal you must listen to the Bible story." When we asked, "Do you like this idea?" we heard a loud "Yes!"

How is it going?

A group of 15-30 children aged 7 to 20 attend regularly. They are difficult to control and have extremely short attention spans. Many arrive smelling of Brazilian moonshine, or dazed from sniffing glue. Some fall asleep; others become agitated and hit other children. One team member narrowly prevented a child from breaking another's head open with a stick.

What are the children like?

They are street-wise beyond their years. A boy of l4 has already been arrested several times; he knows what it is to be involved in homosexual prostitution, and to be beaten by a drunken father. On the other hand, this boy likes to color. He beams when we tell him his picture is pretty. He answers questions about the Bible story in order to win candy, and afterward says, "Look, Auntie, I won six candies today. Isn't that good? Last week I won only four." Our Bible stories often sound like this, "So Peter stepped out of the boat...Juan, you know you aren't allowed to sniff glue here; put that away... then Peter walked on the water toward Jesus." Emotionally, they are five-year-olds in need of love and direction, rules and guidance, but live in bodies that have experienced the depths of sin, pain, and suffering.

I asked Carla why she lives on the streets. Her story is all too familiar. Her mother died in childbirth when she was five, and her father found another partner. That woman didn't like Carla, so she went to live with an aunt who was poor and couldn't feed her. Next Carla went to the house of an uncle who drank a lot, and often beat her. At the age of 12, Carla decided she was better off living on the streets. Since then she has slept under bridges, behind stores, and at bus stops. She is afraid to sleep at night because of the threat of harm. I asked, "Carla, does anyone love you?" She replied, "You've told me God does." Then I asked, "Is there any person who loves you?" She looked down and said, "You do." The lump in my throat hasn't gone away yet.

It will take time to lift these children to the point they can understand and accept the love of God. We have made some progress, though, and many say, "I want to change. I want to leave the streets."

The progress is not only in the lives of the children, but also in the lives of church members. One Brazilian woman said, "I can't believe I actually love these children. Just a year ago I was held up by a street kid. I was full of fear and revulsion. Now, here I am giving my time and my heart to win these kids for Jesus. It's a miracle!"