I love to play with these kids. They work hard at chores, study hard for classes. It feels so good to share play. Especially the older girls — Rachel, Esther, Eve — they don’t usually play, so when I lead them to the field, they play wholeheartedly. With the middle and younger ones they are so desperate for a turn with the frisbee they get too aggressive. I have been trying to get them to share, but it is hard with my limited Luganda.
Yesterday, Cossima — about 10 years old — took the lead in including the younger, slower children. He felt so good when I praised him to Maama Victoria.
Many of the older kids play football (soccer). Their soccer ball is a round bundle of rags, tightly wrapped together, but always trailing a few shreds. Why didn’t I bring 6 soccer balls? How many of us in the U.S. spend $600 for hockey equipment, or $1,000 for ski gear. If Amazon worked here I would have ordered soccer balls, shoes, clothes — one boy had no pants today and had stretched his torn t-shirt to cover himself.
I am broken wide open today. The needs are so vast. Many of the children who have shoes have ones three sizes too big. I have seen one boy the last two days whose shorts were to big so he always had to use one hand to hold them up. Yesterday many children had their foam mattresses in the hot sun to “kill most of the bugs.”
How can I, with my wealth, be a neighbor to these children? Why am I more deserving of material comforts than these?
Bread is a rare treat. As I ate my breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that probably none of the children have every had toast and jelly. (By the way, Maama cooked our toast over the fire this morning). Today I want to empty my wallet and bank account and give them all mattresses and toast with jelly. I don’t know how to be myself today, to be neighbors to Hillary and Violet and Francis and Benson …
As I sit quietly, an answer comes. I don’t have to figure out large answers today. I am not to be a savior. I need to be present to each person I see today. I need to live in my broken-heartedness. Maybe tomorrow I will know more about ways to help. Maybe tomorrow I will have a larger, clearer vision. Today I only need to see the child in front of me. And wait. With hope.
Faithfully,
Steve
Steve, i can feel your compassion and see how love breaks open our hearts!
ReplyDeleteSteve, your love, your sweetness, your sense of fun - you've given the children what is so very important.
ReplyDeleteSteve, that is beautiful!
ReplyDeleteLet your heart keep feeling. Keep being open to the struggle and the love and let the Spirit keep working in you
ReplyDeleteSteve, as I read your post, tears formed and my heart opened, feeling the love and compassion you're feeling for these children and the challenges within their young lives. So beautiful and so challenging. And yet, they smile; they laugh; they love. May we all do the same. Always. Thank you so much for sharing your heart with them. With us.
ReplyDeleteThank you Steve for sharing this post. Isn't it ironic that you are writing this from what was known as the "Breadbasket of Africa" There was once plenty of food in all the villages. Hunger was unknown. No foreign aid was needed in Uganda or in any other country in East Africa. What in the world happened? May God reveal something to you in this time of listening and seeing.
ReplyDeleteyour attempt to "live in (your) broken-heartedness"is "giving" you the eyes to see clearly..the humility it takes to "be neighbor"--to "simply" BE. God bless you for taking this risk..for truly "being" with these of God's children..who have so much to teach us..so very much to teach us..the lesson is less about doing, as we have pondered again and again in the DR...the lesson, I believe, is in the "being". AMEN we thank you for teaching us now, Steve and Elizabeth! Ann&Charles
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