Backpacks and Promises

If you’ve been around Summit for more than a year, you’ve likely seen our Backpack Drive promoted as we near the end of summer. Over the years, we’ve promoted the drive with fun videos and even heard firsthand testimony of how the drive has benefited lives. Most of us associate the mountains of backpacks that pile in the lobby with local schools and our ongoing commitment to supporting vulnerable children in Central Florida. What many people don’t know, though, is that some of these backpacks go to AFCO (Africans Family and Community Outreach)!

AFCO has been one of our ministry partners for almost 10 years. They started in 2013 in response to a growing need for a stronger support system for African refugee families and individuals in the Central Florida area. African refugees and immigrants throughout the world, in the U.S.A. and particularly in Central Florida, reached a significant number in the past 20 years, and that number is likely to double or even triple in the next five to ten. The founders of AFCO are committed to providing community outreach, advocacy, and educational and cultural support for these families, wherever they might come from.

Recently, the leader of Summit’s Refugee Care Team, Kirsty Ortega, shared a story that began to circulate within our congregation and staff, and we felt it just had to be shared somewhere for the whole congregation. Kirsty has been working with refugees alongside AFCO and other organizations for years and often gets to spend time with these families and see some of the hardships they face firsthand. She and her teammates volunteer their time with refugees in the Orlando area and often welcome newly arriving refugees. This story starts with one such trip.

“So, we pick up this family from the airport. It was a family of six from Central America. Here we are, Jenni, Aura, and I, with our homemade ‘Bienvenido’ sign and our toothy American smiles as we see our family walk up. Aura, in all her Guatemalan glory, runs over to start giving out hugs.

This family, like most, looks a little shell-shocked. We do our introductions and help them find their bags. As we were in a quiet corner of the bustling airport, waiting for the rented shuttle to arrive, the dad looked to the mom and whispers something to her. Something along the lines of ‘We made it.’ They embrace and bury their faces in each other’s necks and start sobbing. They were safe, and their children were safe. We turn to give them privacy as we all start to cry.

Back at their new apartment, we haul everything from luggage, bedding, and food up three flights of stairs. The last haul was four brand new Summit backpacks, packed to near explosion, with brand new school supplies. We call the kids over and hand the eight-year-old boy the coolest Mario backpack in the world. (If you donated a Mario backpack last year that had little squares of Mario on it. . . you nailed it!)

So, I hand him this Mario backpack, and his eyes get so big. He’s all smiles. He glances back and forth between me, the backpack, and his parents. I use the little Spanish I know to say something like “Es para ti, para escuela.” He takes it and looks like he just won the lottery. I hand out the other backpacks, and one after the other, the dad encourages them to show their appreciation.

Then, as we began explaining how to use the dishwasher, what soap makes it work, and what soap makes it a bubble machine, I look over to see their little boy and his sister do what all the kids do when they receive a backpack from us: they take everything out, one by one, line it up, and repack it. Then, they take everything out again, inspect everything, and put it back in. Then, they try it on before repeating all of that over and over again.

As we finish up and get ready to leave, I say to the dad through Google Translate, ‘We’ve been praying for you for years, and we’re so glad you’re here and that you’re safe.’ He immediately starts crying and asks to pray with us. He and his family drop to their knees, as do we. He starts praying and crying, thanking God for bringing them safely here and for this welcome. At this point, we’re all crying.”

In every bit of correspondence we had with Kirsty about this story, she never stopped thanking us. Whether through email or over the phone, she wanted to be sure everyone knew what these backpacks mean to the kids who receive them.

“I want to say thank you to Summit for this story and many like it. What I love about the Summit backpacks, the backpacks you give, is how nice they are. They’re always nice, there’s not a dud in the bunch. Some are cute, some cool, some fashionable, some understated. There’s really something for everyone.

I’ve given about 60 backpacks to former refugee kids and about two dozen to brand-new incoming refugee kids over the last year. These backpacks aren’t just backpacks to these kids— they’re gifts. But the backpacks aren’t just gifts either, they’re promises. They’re promises of a future here.

School is where these kids will meet their new best friends. School is where they’ll learn English. School is where they’ll lay the building blocks for their future education and careers—a path to a better life. This is why their parents tried so hard to get them here. These backpacks are a promise that their new life is starting, and they’ll be ready for it.”