I think about
Sunday afternoon following an amazing church service we attended- we
had gone to the market to go shopping. From the moment we stepped out
of our vans we were surrounded by street vendors trying to sell their
goods, children trying to sell wooden toothbrushes and people asking
for food. We had been told that the only way that they would leave us
alone was to say no and walk away. As I crawled back into the van
after looking in some of the booths, I couldn't even look at the
children knocking on the windows because it hurt too much to see. As
I sat there I felt so convicted...is this how Jesus would treat these
hurting children? By saying no and walking past them? Somehow I don't
think so. I honestly don't know the proper way to respond to the
hordes of beggars, but the way I was treating them just didn't seem
right. I next day I felt like God was laying one of these children on
my heart so I took time to pray for that child and pray that I would
know how to treat these people the way Jesus wants me to. Later that
afternoon I had a small girl come up to me, putting her hands up to
her mouth in a gesture of hunger. I didn't have my bag with me (which
I feel made this a lot easier), so I said, “I'm sorry, I don't have
anything to give you.” I crouched down and looked into her eyes and
continued, “but I do have Jesus. Do you know Jesus?” I can't even
explain how my heart cried when she looked at me and said no. Or how
helpless I felt because I don't speak any Amharic and have no way to
really communicate with her. I simply took her dirty little hand in
my own and said, “Jesus loves you.” I may have said other things
but I don't really remember any more. I don't know if I will every
forget the smile that lit up her hungry little face as I looked back,
waved and blew a kiss at her as we pulled away. The picture of this
precious little girl standing on the dirty street among other beggars
and vendors still makes me cry every time I think about her (which is
quite a lot). I just pray that somehow that encounter will help her
to know that she is loved. She is one of the reasons I want to come back
someday...because she is just one of millions of children here that need
to know that they are loved.
That same day we
also went to help out at a feeding program. They marched us in and
put us right to work. For awhile I folded and stacked ingera- a
traditional Ethiopian spongy “bread” that is made out of sour
milk and is used for scooping up food. I think it's pretty gross but
they seem to like it. After that I went to the window and handed
plates with ingera on it to the line of people coming through. Once
they get their ingera someone gives them a scoop of sauce and beans
and they sit to eat. Between the smell of the food and the odors it
was hard to decide if it smelled good or just plain nasty in there.
After seeing the spilled food and slop the latter was more accurate.
Each day they feed 1,000 people, ranging from children to the
elderly, in shifts of 100. Blind, crippled, sick and diseased people
all came through the line for food. I tried to smile at them but most
of them wouldn't look at you. When they finish eating they come, hand
you their bowl and leave so the next group can get their food. If
they hadn't finished all their food we dumped it into a bucket on the
counter. At first I thought it was going to be thrown away or maybe
fed to some animals....but I soon discovered I was wrong. People
would come up with plastic bags held out for the slop to be scooped
into so they would have something to eat later. I think this was one
of the hardest things for me to see there; these people taking scraps
of mushy leftover food that in the States we probably wouldn't even
feed to our pet. It makes you think twice about saying, “I'm
starving” or complaining about our food.
Our last full day
in Ethiopia we went to an orphanage. When we first got there one
little boy raced up to me and when I held out my arms he jumped into
them, wrapped his little legs tightly around my waist, his arms
around my neck and nuzzled his face against mine. I carried him
around and he showed me things around the yard while still holding
tightly to me. Eventually I put him down and sat down to talk to two
girls who spoke very good English. One of them told me a little bit
of her story and I found myself falling in love with her. When they
had to go in for lunch I went upstairs to the baby room. There were
many special needs kids. One girl had hydrocephalus and was blind.
She is 9 but because she can't sit or really move she just lays in a
crib in a room crowded with babies. At one point she began to cry. It
was absolutely heartbreaking. We held held her hands and rubbed her
head trying to calm her down but I can't even begin to imagine a life
like that. Another little girl was missing both legs and one arm.
Some of the them were incredibly tiny. There was one little tiny girl
who was only 2 weeks old who had been found abandoned and brought to
the orphanage. So many sad stories...but even more sad to think of
the ones who don't make it to an orphanage. For a long time I held
one little guy with huge eyes. It was supposed to be nap time but he
was more interested in looking around, pulling my hair and playing.
At one point I went to put him in his crib but as soon as I set him
down he began to cry. I couldn't stand it so I picked him back up and
held him until we had to leave. Even though it was hard to hear their
stories, I'm glad these children are being taken care of. I couldn't
think of a better way I would have liked to spend my last day in
Africa, this place I have come to love, than playing with beautiful children, hearing their stories
and holding babies. <3
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