Daryl's Story of Hope and Redemption

Daryl was hungry for more. I could see it in his eyes.  

Daryl is one of those kids who came from nothing and if I had to guess, never had anything to call his own. His life, according to societal standards, is full of failure. He is in prison, sentenced as an adult even though he was a minor when he committed his crime. Georgia is one of the few remaining states that still tries children as adults based on their crime. They receive the same sentences as adults and upon turning 17, they are moved from a youth detention center to an adult prison. This is despite scientific evidence that most people’s brains don’t fully form until they’re at least 25. Furthermore, youth housed in adult prisons are more likely to commit suicide, to experience sexual violence, to reoffend upon their release.

When Daryl first walked into our horticulture class at the age of 17, I could tell he’d reached his breaking point. Nothing had worked up to that point in his life and he was willing to try something new. Each week he immersed himself in the garden’s soil, eager to get some dirt underneath his fingernails. I’ll never forget the moment he pulled a clump of weeds out of the ground and stood staring at them, turning them over and over in his brown hands. Walking up to me he remarked in wonderment, “Bro, I never seen a whole plant before. This is crazy.”

Since his early days in the classroom almost a year ago, I’ve watched Daryl mature into a young man, literally and figuratively growing up before my eyes. He completed assignments with ease and diligence. He memorized a poem, “If” by Rudyard Kipling, and recited it flawlessly before our entire class. He’s always on time and sits quietly through each lecture. 

Chaplain John Richardson visited our horticulture class recently to teach about baptism. We planned to baptize adults and juveniles the following week and before they signed up, John wanted to make sure they understood just what they were agreeing to. 

The sun shone on us at Burruss that day. The guards failed to unlock our classroom in the portable trailer, so we spent the entire morning in the garden, pulling weeds by hand. One student, Matthew, found a worm. He thought it was a snake at first. In case you can’t tell, he’s from New York City. He had told me that morning that he wouldn’t be pulling weeds, and I told him that when we harvested our crops in a few weeks, he wouldn’t be eating. After two hours of pulling weeds, he approached me and thanked me. He felt “calm.”

Chaplain John told Daryl and a few other boys about a former prisoner he’d previously baptized. When asked why he wanted to get baptized, the student replied, “the old me has to die.” As Chaplain John told this story, I watched Daryl nod along. He felt that in his soul. 

I stepped back from the group and gazed at the blue sky overhead. What a beautiful day. Nothing had gone to plan - our lecture had been scrapped because we couldn’t get in the classroom, one entire housing unit was locked down and going through a shakedown, the quiz I had just given my students went poorly.

I looked back at the boys. Daryl bent over and took a seat on the concrete. At his feet was a worn copy of The Great Gatsby. To his left stood Genesis with a copy of The Hiding Place. Charlie hovered in the periphery with The Good Earth in his hands. Dery, the student that I thought was going to fight me once, held a copy of Just Mercy. 

To an outsider, these boys would have looked like the saddest group of kids you’d ever met. They wore the same clothes, sported the same hastily done haircuts, displayed the same “chain gang” homemade tattoos. They were missing teeth, all in different degrees of malnourishment, and above all else, sat on a concrete pad in the middle of a prison with three layers of razor wire fence surrounding them. 

But to me, despite the circumstances, despite the sun glinting off the towering fences, despite this horrible messed up system that eats boys like Daryl alive, I saw hope. Each of these books was purchased by HeartBound, purchased with your donations, to go directly into the hands of incarcerated boys like Daryl. Each of these books will tell each boy a story, expose him to a new world, transport him to another place and another time. In these books, they’ll find stories of people surviving in the worst of situations, of overcoming overwhelming hardships, of finding redemption and purpose. 

These boys will be changed by these books. And I will be too, for from these boys, I will learn. I’ll learn what it means to love your neighbor, to bring them food, books, and seeds.

Matthew 25:35-40 says: 

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.”

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’”

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

Sure, you might not have physically carried these books to Dery, Charlie, Genesis, and Daryl. But your donations allowed us to purchase them, and your donations allow us to provide so much more to other kids and adults just like them. 

You are doing so much for the least of these, and we are so grateful. God bless you.