By HAROLD KELLER

Many times I’ve heard it said that people don’t really care how much you know, until they see how much you care. I often forget that my witness to young people is measured by what they see, not what they hear.

Last week, God allowed me to experience my talk and my walk and, in the process, showed me what was really important.

I was speaking at the St. James Young Detention Center and really was having a rough time. The center houses young people from ages 11-17. It is the toughest place that I have an opportunity to minister. The reason is because most of these young people have no hope. This particular session, three young boys did a great job of quenching the spirit of the meeting. I challenged one of them that if he didn’t allow God to give him an attitude transplant, his future would be serving time in and out of jail. He really resented what I had to say and with the help of two other young boys, did everything in his power to disrupt my talk.

As the meeting came to an end and with me anxious to leave, I asked everyone to stand and said that we would sing “Amazing Grace.” Two of the young, rebellious boys remained seated. With an angry spirit, I said, “We’ll be here all day until you stand.” When the song was over, most of the young people clapped, much to my surprise.

My friend, Danny Louque, was with me and as we left, he said, “Keller, that was tough!” I agreed and we both said that the clapping surprised us.

I told Danny that my talk was not received, but that the next morning I was going to bring all of them doughnuts for breakfast. Jokingly, I said that the doughnuts will touch more hearts than my big mouth.

The next day, Pat Hymel and I picked up seven dozen doughnuts and some orange juice and stood behind the breakfast serving line. I wish everyone could have seen the appreciative look on each young person’s face.

I noticed that the three boys who gave me trouble were not in the breakfast line. I asked where they were. The officer in charge said that they were in lockdown, because of their behavior during my talk. “They won’t get doughnuts and juice?” I asked. “Yes, they will,” the officer answered. “I’ll have someone bring it to them.” I then asked if I could. She agreed, and Pat and I walked over to the other building.

As we handed them the doughnuts and juice, they were stunned. Their rebellious spirit the previous day was replaced by a spirit of humility, and they were able to receive the love that I had for them. The officer in charge was so impressed with their change of attitude that she lifted the lockdown order.

Evidently, my talk didn’t convince any of them, but the following day, by showing them I cared, made all the difference in the world.

Was it a good lesson for them? I think so, but it was more of a revelation for me. God told me to let my walk speak louder than my talk.

HAROLD KELLER writes this column as part of his affiliation with the Get High on Life religious motivational group. Call him at (985) 652-8477.