It was a quiet morning when Auntie, our kind neighbour, invited us to go somewhere with her. I slipped on my polished school shoes—the only good pair I owned—and we headed out. On the way, she handed me two dollars and said with a smile, “This is for the church.”
When we arrived, the church wasn’t at all what I had imagined. It was simple, almost plain, but the people there were so warm and welcoming that it felt special—like home, but different.
As a curious boy, I watched everything closely. The way they prayed, sang, and talked about God fascinated me. Their faith seemed so deep, so alive. I remember the leader sharing something that made me pause: he said that if people didn’t worship God, even the stones would cry out His name. He went on to describe God as both the most powerful and the most loving, who gave His only Son for humanity. I was struck when he said Jesus, the King of Kings, had no palace—He was born in a stable.
That day, so many questions filled my mind. If Jesus was the one they had been waiting for, why wasn’t He welcomed? How could the Son of God be sacrificed like the animals I’d seen offered before? And if stones could praise God, why didn’t the wooden cross speak when Jesus hung on it?
Later, we went to Sunday school, where the teacher explained that Jesus died for our sins. That idea stayed with me. Why would God’s own Son, innocent and pure, take the punishment for us? Why would God, so powerful, choose to follow the rules of justice so perfectly? And above all, what had humanity done to deserve such love?
Well, I could not find the place to put the money so when coming back home I bought some lollipops and while having it was I was in deep thinking about what I found that day. I was introduced to a love greater than anything I had ever known. I thought my parents’ love was the most unconditional thing in the world. But God’s love? It was beyond comprehension. A love that gave everything, even forgiveness, to a broken and undeserving world.
And then I realized something incredible: I could call Him Father. I didn’t need statues or rituals to talk to Him. He was real, and He promised to never abandon me, no matter what. Even after all humanity had done to Him, He still chose to forgive, to love.
That morning, I walked into the church with questions and left with something far greater—hope, belonging, and a new understanding of the greatest love of all. And honestly, as I child I was really upset with the humans of the world about how cruel and blind we can be that a man without sin died and no one stood for him. He came alone leaving all the heavenly riches to be poor and died all alone. So, he never had any friends who could stand by him?