(A) Moving Day

Some pretty special kiddos started a new chapter of their lives today.

You may have heard me tell part of their story before. These kids were living in an orphanage that was, according to the government of Liberia, deplorable. Their living conditions were truly unforgivable. They were always dirty. Never in school. Usually alone. The eight and nine year old girls did most of the cooking, laundry, cleaning and caring for the younger children. Often they ate only once a day. We had pleaded with the director to feed them more, to send them to school, to have an adult live with them at the home. We had pleaded with the government to close the home, it was no home. For over a year, nothing changed.

Then there was a fire. The boy's "dorm" burned down. It wasn't really a dorm, it was a dilapidated mud-brick room in an already questionable school building with a few bunks. The fire was accidental. All the boys got out. One had a burn on his foot. Thankfully they were all alive. Suddenly the government is there, removing the children (finally). Seventeen children were split between three already crowded - but miraculously different homes. Food was served three times a day. The kids could play, go to school. Life, in their limited understanding of circumstances, couldn't get better.

Not knowing that this tragedy (blessing?) of a fire would change their course, we had already started looking for another way. A new boarding school was being built. A new hope for the future of these kids. Several of them were admitted, but the school was still being built.

Fast forward six months-- to today. The school is finished. Moving day is here. I had the privilege of driving some of them to their new school. At the, not so new to them anymore, orphanage they are all ready. Best clothes on, bags packed, one last meal with the other 80+ children at the home. Joshua and Arthur can't stop smiling, instinctively they know this is gonna be good. George and Varbah aren't so sure. This place had become a safe refuge, so much better than anything they could have imagined before and they are making friends. Paul and Joe happy to go along with whatever may come. Quiet Patricia soaking it all in.

The Seven file upstairs to say goodbye. The father of the home, who has known these kids for only six months, starts to cry. "This will always be your home." I start to cry. It has been a home to them, a constant, something they never really had before. We pray together. With a crooked smile, and wiping a tear, Mr Smith fist-busts the departing children. There are whispered and giggled goodbyes from the other children as well. The pick-up is loaded with seven excited-scared kids and a few small plastic bags that hold all of their possessions.

The hour long drive gives them time to adjust a bit to the adventure. The chatter in the back seat doesn't stop the entire time. Driving fast, passing cars, a monkey for sale on the side of the road, airplanes on the ground at the airport-- these are all new, resulting in comments and giggles.

As we 4x4 around the last sand-corner and the new school comes into view, spontaneous singing erupts from the back. Seven sweet voices greet their new home, their school, their hope for the future.

Somehow I know that there are many more chapters to come...