He is a ten-year-old boy. He lost his father before he ever entered the world. Now, it’s just him and his mom, doing life together the best they can. She works several jobs, trying to keep the bills paid and her son’s diabetes managed. She longs for her boy to have a positive male role model, yet like any loving mother, she is cautious. She asks many questions. She hesitates. Fear and hope wrestle inside her.

We explained our careful screening, training, and ongoing supervision of Christian mentors. Her desire to give her son what he needed was stronger than her fear. And so, Tommy was matched with a Christian mentor named Sam.

On their first meeting, Sam asked Tommy what he hoped would come out of their friendship. Tommy’s answer was simple and understandable:

“I want to learn to ride a bike… and play baseball.”

So they began with a game of catch. Then a trip to a real baseball game. And soon, Sam’s church stepped in and made it possible for Tommy to attend a week-long baseball camp. It wasn’t easy.  Most kids were there to sharpen advanced skills. Tommy was there to learn how to hold a bat.

After the first day, Tommy came home discouraged. He didn’t want to go back. But everything changed when Sam said, “Tommy, I’ll come to your game at the end of the week.” 

When the big day came, Sam was in the stands.

This was not a movie moment. Tommy struck out. He walked back to the bench, sat down, and cried with his head buried in his hands. Sam moved close to the backstop and spoke words Tommy had never heard from a man: They were a reminder that striking out is part of the game… that courage matters more than success… and that Sam was proud of him for trying something new. 

Then the coach called out, “Tommy, go to first base and run for Tony!” He was a pinch runner! When the batter connected, Tommy took off. Moments later he stood on second base, smiling from ear to ear. That was the beginning and end of his baseball career—but it was enough.

Tommy had experienced something far more important than a hit. He had a man in the stands of his life. A year later, on June 16th, Sam’s phone rang.  A quiet voice said, “I just called to say Happy Father’s Day. I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Last June, Tommy graduated from high school. Today he is in college on a scholarship, studying computer science. When I asked what he hoped to do with his degree, he didn’t hesitate:  

“When I get my first paycheck, I’m taking my mentor and his wife to Hawaii. They’ve always wanted to go there.”

One boy.  One man who showed up—and kept showing up. 

That is the difference a Christian mentor makes. And that is our vision, why we exist.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.”

—Psalm 68:5