Rynn Davison is currently completing the outreach phase of her five-month Discipleship Training School in India. She did her DTS lecture phase at YWAM Madison (www.ywammadison.org). Davison filed this report from Pune, India.

It’s not every day that we take a dozen children off the streets of India to give them baths, haircuts, clothing and lunch. We had no idea what to expect!

When the kids arrived at the children’s home for the afternoon, they spilled out of the vans with smiles and laughter. After a flurry of introductions, they instantly scrambled in to play with us, uninhibited by any language barriers and happy to show and receive affection.

“They’re so smiley, so happy!” said Hattie.

The kids loved to dance. Bharat, a 14-year-old street kid, danced just like Michael Jackson. Four-year-old Rikki spun around like a teenager. Some of the little kids were as good as Areli, who has had many years of dancing lessons.

After playing for a while, it was time to bathe the kids. Katie and Paul gave baths, and I helped them dry off and get into clothes. We had to wash some girls’ hair several times to get it clean and then combed their knotted hair.

Cleaned, dried, and combed, the children were next sent to Jen, a hair-stylist-turned-missionary. Her cutting shears were first met with suspicion. But by the end of the afternoon, the kids fought over the privilege of sweeping up the mess and examining her equipment.

"I love using a skill that I already have to serve these kids,” said Jen. “God has given me a gift to serve the outcasts of society.”

These children did everything with intensity, whether laughing, crying or playing. “I guess living on the streets does that,” I thought to myself.

It was difficult to say goodbye. We’d given them a joy-filled afternoon, yes, but had we really changed anything or addressed the long-term issues in their lives? Had we given them a bed for the night? Or food for the next morning?

In the end, I knew that we’d done what we could. It was up to God to take care of them, and to send more people to help. Maybe one day, each of these precious children would have a safe home and enough food to eat. I could only pray that this is what would happen.

“God, please protect your little ones,” I prayed, my eyes stinging with tears as the vans drove them back to their makeshift homes on the streets of Pune.