"Señor, I watch you cah"

Yes, I do have a mischievous streak in me—and sometimes it comes out!

It was our family tradition when our children were younger and at home, to go out to eat every Tuesday evening. It just so happened that Tuesday nights were family night at Pizza Hut, and we could get that wonderful garlic bread with a layer of melted cheese on top, four drinks, and a family-sized pizza—all for $8. (I think Pizza Hut actually manipulated us and caused us to make their $8 family night "our" tradition.

Petty theft is not uncommon on the streets of La Ceiba, Honduras, so young boys always hang out at restaurants and other stores to offer in broken English, “I watch you cah”. Once you determine whether they mean they want to wash your car or watch your car, then you can give them the go-ahead. They'll do both if you want. But, as we went into Pizza Hut that night, I hadn’t talked to any of the young, ambitious car watchers.

After a delicious thin-crust Super Supreme was washed down with Pepsi, we said goodbyes to the other missionary families (who also always went to PH on family night—such bargain hunters, those missionaries!) we headed toward our gray Toyota truck. As we were walking by a nice, shiny Ford F-150 pickup a young "car-watcher" seemed to physically materialize in front of the Ford—hand held out and saying, “I watch you cah….I watch you cah.”

I couldn’t help what happened next. My orneriness took control. I pointed directly at the shiny Ford and questioned, “You watched this car?”

“Sí, Señor, sí, Señor,” the boy repeated mechanically, walking backwards in front of me so as not to lose eye contact (and to keep that outstretched hand begging me for a financial reward.)

As anticipation built in the boy’s eyes, I said calmly, “Oh, that’s not my car! It’s this one over here,” pointing to the gray Toyota.

Disappointment flooded the young boy’s face as he realized he had blown it. In an effort to salvage his business, he quickly pointed to my car and said, "I watched that one too.!”

Laughter broke out among us. I teased him for a moment, but didn’t let the fun get out of hand. I know the hard life these street kids live and they do what they can to earn a piece of bread. There was no way I was going to leave it there.

Reaching into my pocket and pulling out the standard “watch you cah” rate, I handed it to the young entrepreneur. He gave me a quick “Gracias,” and his bare feet pattered up the sidewalk to collect from his next customer.

I hope he remembers me as the guy who laughed and paid him to watch someone else’s car—instead of just the naughty missionary who had some fun—at MY expense!

God bless all the street kids. Help me to love them like He does.