In the summer of 2007, we sat down to visit with a local missionary at a cafe in the centre of Stara Zagora. As we talked, we soon heard the sound of children angrily yelling at each other. It was a group of boys, confronting one single boy—a Roma boy (many people are used to hearing the word “gypsy,” but this is a derogatory word used to describe a people group found all across Eastern Europe). Because his skin was darker than theirs, he was singled out as something less than worthless.
"Why are you messing with our friend?" we asked.
This one boy was backed into a corner, clearly scared but ready to fight. As the shouting continued, we stepped between the boys.
“Why are you yelling at our friend?” we asked.
Suddenly, it got quiet. None of the boys knew what to think. I am certain that this was the first time anyone had called this boy “friend.”
Over the next week, we were able to show Krasimir that we weren’t kidding. He really was important—to us, and more importantly, to God. By the end of our stay, we knew him to be a smart kid who cared about others and was thankful to be called a friend.
Our hearts broke when the time came for us to leave, and Krasi tried to come with us on the bus. We told him that we couldn’t take him with us, but that God would be with him and that we would come back again and find him.
That winter, Natalie and some friends returned to Stara Zagora, spending several days in below zero weather searching for Krasi. People from the city recognized his picture and tried to help find him, but to no avail. We immediately began to pray and make plans for the following summer.
By the time we got to Bulgaria in the summer of 2008, the story of Krasimir had spread. We discovered that many of our Bulgarian friends thought that the idea of us returning to a city of over 100,000 people to try and find one boy, whose last name we didn’t even know, much less his address—was nothing more than crazy. However, they were willing to humor us, so back we went.
We didn’t find Krasimir.
As we made our way to the Centre, we hadn’t gone more than two blocks before we saw two young boys running toward us. Krasi and his brother Dyakov found us! We spent the rest of the day with them, continuing to show them that they were valuable and not forgotten. In fact, every time we return to Bulgaria, we now make certain to get to Stara Zagora, where we always find Krasi, Dyakov, and several more brothers, sisters and friends waiting for us. They know that we will always come back looking for them, and God has blessed us through our friendship (I will write more about this soon).
When you expect God to be there, He always delivers.