From Geoffrey to you! Little Hands

Saturday May 2, 2009

Little hands

Last night we had our closing ceremonies for the camp. Each grade in school presented something. I saw some of the funniest skits imaginable and heard some of the most remarkable singing. We heard from board members from Tumaini and had motivational speaking from local political leaders. These children get the leftovers from the families raising them, they never get soda, so Tumaini purchased five hundred sodas and every child got one; a once in a year ordeal. The ceremony was supposed to be two or three hours American time, but that translated in twelve hours Kenyan time; eleven AM till eleven PM.

I planted myself in the front row and before I knew it my entourage of eight year olds surrounded me; some of the children I had been chasing and playing with all week. It was getting incredibly cold by Kenyan standards, about seventy degrees that is about as cold as it gets here. A cold breeze was gushing through the windows and sent chills down the spines of all of these children. With my arms around their shoulders and their heads nestled against my chest, I was the means to warmth for two small boys. One had his arms tucked into his torn short. The other boy was emphatically holding my hand.

These children had been dressed in the same rags all week. Dirt was smeared across their faces from the dried sweat they incurred throughout the day like any eight-year-old boy. I looked at the boy on my right, his shirt was covered in holes and was too small and he had grown out of his pants ages ago. As I looked down at these small boys and took in this situation I couldn’t help but shed a tear or two. I knew that the breakfast they received this morning would be the last meal for a few days. I knew that I was one of the only people in their life that cared enough to just wrap my arms around them to give them warmth. I knew that love wasn’t going to be heaped upon them in abundant amounts like it was this last week. The fact that the only soda they would drink this year was the one we gave them. I knew that when I see them again they would be dressed in the same clothing. I knew that this week wasn’t like heaven on earth, for these children it WAS and IS heaven on earth.

The boy holding my hand did it as if his life depended on it, I think because for him this was his whole world. He had been beaten, abused, mistreated, malnourished, mocked, teased, ridiculed, and thumped by life, and here I am fixating my attention and eyes on him. In his eyes I am the richest person in the world, the most successful, and like a celebrity in a way because of my skin color. Out of the hundreds upon hundreds of children at this camp I gave him my attention. The reason he held on so tight was because for once in his life he was told he was of worth, the attention and love I gave him told him that he had value.

With my arms wrapped tightly around these boys and as their hands clenched mine, they fell asleep. Their heads were safely pressed against my chest. Have you ever wanted a moment to last a lifetime? Have you ever had an endless amount of peace fill your heart to the point that you wished it never went away? Have you ever wanted time to stand still? I did. Neither a picture, nor a movie or any amount of words I will ever be able to type will ever justly explain this overwhelming amount of peace that filled my body. The feeling I got from holding these AIDS orphans in my arms as they slept is inconceivable the only thing that comes to mind is “sheer bliss,” and even that hardly scrapes the surface of how this moment felt. As I held these little grubby hands in mine and as I had their dirt-covered faces buried in my chest, I realized why I traveled ten-thousands miles; for moments like these.

Asante Sana,

Mwendwa

PRAYER REQUESTS:
Travels of the children as they go home
My speaking for the next three weeks at church
My safety
Funds for a generator for Tumaini

RANDOMS:
Carro, the girl with the swollen head, got her wheelchair yesterday. She also is in need of a surgery to remove the water from her head, this will give her the ability to walk, it is pretty expensive and the group from America that came is paying for it!
In Kenya you talk differently. If a word starts with an “H” you don’t pronounce the “H.” Like Hot dog would be pronounced as Ot dog. If a word starts with a vowel you put an “H” in front of it. If you wanted eggs and ham for breakfast you would say heggs and am. Kind of funny
There is a girl at camp that calls me a trouble maker, I started to call her binga which means booger!
I am going on a safari Monday, I get to see lions and zebras woot woot

Word of the day

Binga – Bing-Uh

BOOGER!

This entry was posted on Saturday, May 2nd, 2009 at 2:30 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.