For some, the dilemma is what to wear underneath their cap and gown. For others, the dilemma is making sure their cap doesn’t fall or ensuring the tassel stays in the correct side. And for a few, the dilemma is focusing on not falling as they walk across the stage.

I remember my dilemma was NOT wanting to attend my own graduation. I should have been excited. I was part of the first generation of my family to attend school, much less graduate. My parents didn’t have the opportunity for any formal education in Vietnam, and I knew that I was blessed to have parents who wanted to give me that chance here in the States. But as a senior, I was annoyed by the “hoopla” of the graduation ceremonies. Endless conversations about it, gown fittings, graduation practice to walk in a straight line and alphabetical order, invitations, parties, oratory speeches-all of that just to receive a fake diploma as you walk across the stage. I felt the same way when I graduated from college and couldn’t understand why family would want to drive hundreds of miles to watch me walk across the stage…again.

This is generally how I feel about most ceremonies. If I don’t have a birthday party, I am still a day older. If I elope instead of have a wedding, I am still married, and if I don’t walk across the stage in a cap and gown, I am still a graduate. Why do we care about these ceremonies and rituals?

But last month while in Uganda, I attended a graduation ceremony and witnessed how much it mattered. During my time there, I had the tremendous joy of distributing shoebox gifts to children through Operation Christmas Child. On the last day, the teachers of one school surprised us with a graduation for 60 of the children who had completed The Greatest Journey, a 12-week discipleship program that allows participants to deepen their relationship with God and share their faith.

I was not sitting in a seat that would allow me to watch their faces as their names were called to receive a handshake, a certificate and their very own Bible. However, I think I had the best seat in the house in the midst of the graduation line because I could see their anticipation and feel their nervous energy. I watched this one young man shift in line so he could get a better view of the action ahead, but it was the pineapple he was carrying that caught my attention. After some prodding, he allowed me to hold his pineapple for him so that he would be unencumbered when his name was called.

Afterwards, I learned that he and many of the other children had brought gifts of pineapple and sugarcane to show their great appreciation for those who made the classes and graduation possible. Twelve weeks of lessons may not sound significant to us here, but it was there. The teachers were volunteers who had committed to attending training for The Greatest Journey but had also committed to traveling three hours every week for 12 weeks to ensure that these children could be taught. This ceremony signified that these children had committed to attending The Greatest Journey for 12 weeks and had gained an understanding of what it meant to follow Jesus. And I was astounded to learn that a Bible was the equivalent of six months’ wages in this community so I understood why this graduation ceremony meant so much to them.

The dilemma for all the children who receive shoebox gifts isn’t whether to participate in The Greatest Journey, but whether there will be enough teachers, learning materials and Bibles for them all. This is one dilemma we can solve one child at a time at www.samaritanspurse.org.