About Ndugu

So, has anyone here seen the movie, About Schmidt?

If not, let me tell you something about it. This is the story of Warren Schmidt, a retired Insurance Actuary from Omaha, Nebraska (wonderfully portrayed by Jack Nicholson). And, like many professional men, he soon discovers that retirement is not all it’s cracked up to be. He and his wife, Helen, have plans to tour the country in their new Winnebago, but Warren isn’t very excited about it. It was his wife’s idea. In fact, Warren isn’t very excited about much of anything, and spends his days in front of the television set, reclined in his easy chair.

Somewhere along the line, he catches a commercial about sponsoring a poor child overseas, and on a lark - or perhaps upon inspiration – he signs himself up. A couple of weeks later he gets a packet in the mail from the Sponsorship Foundation, along with a photo of Ndugu, a six year old boy from Tanzania. The Foundation recommends he write a letter of introduction to his sponsored child, which he immediately does.

And so, for the rest of the movie, the internal dialogue of Warren Schmidt is set down in these letters he sends to little Ndugu Umbo. He tells the boy about his life and family. He even sends a little extra money to Ndugu, so he can go down to the corner drug store and “get himself some candy.” Soon, he’s confesses that living in the same house with his wife for 24 hours a day is driving him crazy. Everything she does annoys him. And as for his old job, well, Warren writes that just this morning he went down to his old Insurance Company, thinking to give the “new man” some pointers, and they gave him the brush off! He later found all of his business files, which he had meticulously kept for over 30 years, piled high in the dumpster outside his old office. “Let that be a lesson to you, young man,” he scrawls across the yellow page.

Then one day, after a visit to the post office, Schmidt discovers his wife has collapsed and died on the kitchen floor, which she had been cleaning. Suddenly, all of their dreams for a happy retirement are shattered. “Dear Ndugu,” Warren writes sadly, “I hope you’re sitting down for this…”

At the funeral Schmidt’s daughter arrives with her fiancé, Randall, who’s a waterbed salesman. Now, if ever there was a disaster of a son-in-law, boy, this guy is it! Still, Warren is polite and stoic, and when all is said and done, and after his friends and family leave, Schmidt finds himself alone in the big, empty house. Things go down-hill pretty quickly after that. The house turns into a shambles: pizza boxes on the floor, dirty laundry draped everywhere, dishes piled high in the sink and the TV, always droning on.

Warren Schmidt misses his wife. And while going through her things one day he finds a shoe box full of love letters written to her by his best friend! Sure, the notes are 30 years old, and the affair a brief one, but Schmidt is horrified. He jumps into his Winnebago and tears off down the street. He stops only long enough to punch his “best friend” in the nose, and then motors off to Denver, filled with new purpose. In a flash he’s decided to keep his only daughter from marrying that nincompoop and ruining her life. All the while, he keeps Ndugu informed of every detail.

Now what all happens in Denver is too silly and lengthy to tell. So I’ll be brief: Schmidt’s daughter refuses to call off her wedding, and she asks her father in a very irate tone: “Why are you suddenly taking an interest in my life NOW? Where were you when I needed you MOST?”

Warren Schmidt is shocked beyond all measure. The couple do get married, and our hero drives home to Omaha in a daze. He has utterly failed; not only at preventing his daughter’s disastrous marriage, but at his own marriage as well. He’s failed as a parent and at his job: 30 years in the same company and all his hard work is thrown out in the trash. He forgives his wife’s infidelity, but it doesn’t seem to change things. Stripped bare of everything he values, Schmidt now realizes that there isn’t a single thing he has ever done in his life that matters. “I am weak,” he tells Ndugu, “I am a failure. What difference has my life made to anyone? None that I can think of, none at all.”

At home he kicks his way through the pile of mail that has stacked up in the entryway and discovers a thin, blue envelope, with international markings. He opens the letter. It is from the Sisters of Mercy at the orphanage where Ndugu lives. The Sister reports that Ndugu is a very intelligent and loving child, and he receives all of Schmidt’s letters. “Recently, he had an infection in his eye, but that is better now. Ndugu is too young to read and write,” she tells him, “but he has made for you a painting. He hopes you will like his painting.” Enclosed is a little child’s colored drawing of two people holding hands. The people are smiling. One is big and one is little. The sun is shining behind them. And Warren Schmidt begins to cry.

And that is the end of the movie.

But I didn’t come here to tell you about a movie. I came here to tell you about Child Sponsorship. I thought I’d talk about all the good things you could be doing for some needy child. I mean, as their sponsor, you’d be giving them food and clean water, a warm shelter, healthcare, clothing, and an education. And you’d be helping their families, too, and even their communities. But I didn’t want to tell you all that because you’ve seen the commercials, just like I have, and you can read about that stuff in the shiny pamphlets they print up.

So what am I trying to tell you? Well, it’s this. Look. If you see even a bit of yourself in Warren Schmidt - maybe your spouse annoys you, or your friends disappoint, or you have a stupid job and the kids don’t listen, or maybe you'd just like to make a difference in the world - why not take a chance on sponsoring a child? You’ll be doing the kids a world of good, and you know that. But, you see, what you don’t know, what I think you don’t realize at all, is that these kids will shine for you like the sun; these kids will be the light and love of Christ for you, because that’s exactly Who they are.

And that’s why Warren Schmidt wept with joy.