Paul, Damawah and their baby brother Lawrence lost their
mother just a few weeks before Christmas. After their father was put in prison,
their mother moved them to a small village up country where she had found work.
Sadly, she became sick and, since they had no family in that village, no one
was there to help her in time. She died in a wheelbarrow, while a stranger was
attempting to transport her to a doctor.
Scared, confused and alone, the children found themselves in
an orphanage that I work with closely. When they arrived, they had swollen
bellies, sunken eyes and wouldn’t make eye contact. After only a few days of
consistent food, care and attention they started looking better. After a week I
was able to play a game of catch with Paul and even caught a shy smile from
him. By the time Christmas arrived and Christmas bundles were delivered, the
kids were actively involved-- although they weren’t really sure what to do with
a gift of their very own, it was possibly the first one they ever received.
Today when I was at their orphanage, I saw Paul sitting by
himself looking at a book. I called his name and he looked confused, but eventually
understood I wanted to spend time with him. He brought me the book, crawled
into my lap, and I proceeded to read it to him, and then another, and another...
After the first few books, I realized he wasn’t really listening to the stories,
he was just enjoying the special time. Eventually I stopped reading, he nuzzled
in deeper, we just sat that way for a quite a while-- watching the other kids
playing a card game, a lively football match, listening to laughter nearby.
Sitting there, soaking in this cuddle-time with Paul, was
the second time this week I had a revelation-- yesterday it hit me while I was
watching a football game at a different orphanage—THIS IS IT. If this was the
only moment, the only good, the only experience I’d had in Liberia, ever, it
was worth it. Everything in the last (almost) five years could be completely
about this moment and that is ok, like Esther’s ‘such a time as this.’ This is
where I am supposed to be at this time, all the other questions that may
surround that don’t matter. And I have to say, that feels pretty good.
1 comment:
I love this Debbie. Beautiful!
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