Refugees and the bus stop

“Over the past 40 years of being married to a pastor, we’ve seen God do amazing things in our church. Miracles. Provision. Blessings. But it just seems that God really shows up, or shows off, when we reach out to refugees. We’ve seen this happen over these past 25 years of working with refugees.”

Words spoken by the director of our local sponsoring refugee program. She often tells people that God seems to do his most amazing stuff when refugees need him.

And that includes when a refugee teen needs to find her bus to school.

Young Latti needed to learn how to catch her 6:00 AM bus to her new high school. Latti does not know English. Latti has never ridden a school bus. In fact, she has never ridden any bus. Busses weren’t part of her refugee camp experience. But she needed to ride the 6:00 AM bus to school – bus number 450. Add “finding the bus” to the long list of New Things to Learn as a Refugee.

I arrived at their apartment at 5:30 in the darkness of a winter morning. As a “good neighbor team” member, I wanted to help her on her first day of school. So, Latti and her 20 year old brother, Samuel, and I headed out her door, and down the street in search of bus 450.

After walking along the dark sidewalk of University Boulevard for 15 minutes, we came to where the school website indicated bus 450 should arrive. Still, I had a sinking feeling. It just felt like we were in the wrong place. By this time, it was 5:50.

Across the street, we could see a group of teens huddled together, each with a book bag and ear plugs. Could they be waiting for bus 450? So, across the street I jogged, and winsomely but tentatively asked, “Hey guys, is this the place where bus 450 will stop? I’m helping a new student find her way to school.”  They paused, blank stares. 

I figured they might just ignore me. It was pitch black, and I wasn’t supposed to be there, after all. All but one student looked away, focusing on their playlists, or just pretending not to hear me. “Uh… that bus stops in front of that church down there, by that street light," said the boy in a white baseball cap, motioning back down the street.

“Thanks. Appreciate it!” I said. And back across the street I ran. I was determined to get Latti to her bus stop, knowing now that we really needed to hustle to be in front of that church, by the street light, to catch that bus.

I’m not much for running in the morning hours. I know a lot of guys who get up early for their daily three mile jog, but I’ve never been a morning runner. On that morning I made an exception. We must have been quite a site – a middle aged white guy, a young African male, and a petite African girl running down University Boulevard.

Stopping by the street light in front of that church, we caught our breath.  And there we stood. Waiting. In the dark. By now it was a little after 6:00 AM. No bus. Not another student waiting for a bus. And there we stood, alone.

As I was just about to say something to Samuel about a “plan B just in case we miss the bus,” I noticed the silhouettes of two guys walking towards us on the sidewalk. Samuel and I both turned and watched. It was an awkward few seconds.

And suddenly, Samuel shouts something in Swahili towards them. A pause, and he shouts another phrase. And the two silhouettes shout back! Their pace quickened. And as these two walkers came into the glow of the street light by us, they embraced Samuel!

They all had been friends back in the refugee camp in Tanzania. And now, living in Jacksonville, they were enrolled in the same school where Latti was enrolled, and they were coming this morning to catch the same bus, bus number 450!

As these four young adults talked and laughed and hugged, the headlights of their bus approached. And Latti was escorted to her first day of school, on her first bus ride, with two friends she had grown up with in a refugee camp over 8,000 miles away! Miracles. Provision. Blessings.  

“It just seems that God really shows up, or shows off, when we reach out to refugees.”