It’s our last night at the orphanage and the house is full of activity. The girls are singing and dancing away in the kitchen. I can hear their feet tapping and hands clapping. I think I also hear someone slapping away on the counter top to add to the beat. The girls LOVE having dance parties with us.
Outside the window on my right I can hear the voices of the boys, hanging out and wrestling. I can never tell if someone’s actually hurt or not because they scream out in a language I don’t understand. I figure until I see tears everything is okay.
Some of the other boys are out front playing cards and there’s even more people out back singing Jesus culture – let it rain. I think it’s one of the only English songs these kids know. That and “pharoah, pharaoh”, which I will proudly take the credit for, for teaching them; they love that song.
Despite the many cockroaches that like to roam around in here, this orphanage has become a really special place to me. The kids, who stay here once lived on the streets, either because they were abused, neglected or orphaned. They’ve all experienced a type of pain and abandonment that I will probably never know and yet they have so much joy.
They wake up around 5am every morning to do their morning chores such as scrubbing the floors on their hands and knees (Yup. You got it. Cinderella style) then we sit down at 6am to do devotions and pray with them before they head out on their 1h30 walk to school. When they get home from school they each take turns helping out with dinner and cleaning up afterwards. I don’t know about you but at that age I was NOT that helpful around the house. I used to complain when I had to do the dishes once every 3 days! Not to mention my parents fed me well! Most days the kids here don’t eat very much. They all look about 4 years younger than they actually are because they are so malnourished. Every day of their lives they eat this stuff called sudsa. It looks like mashed potatoes but it’s made out of corn. It’s not bad at first, but try eating it every day and I’m sure you’ll change your mind. Not only that but most days there is no running water or electricity.
They have so little and yet there hearts are SO big. On worship nights you will see kids as young as 8 closing their eyes and lifting their hands up to the night sky praising Jesus. It’s a pretty powerful thing to witness. I asked one girl what she was thankful for and her response was “I am thankful to be alive”.
I can’t even begin to explain how much these kids have taught me. One of the most precious memories I have with them is how they ran out to greet us every single time we came back from a trip to town. We barely had to take a few steps into the driveway before they were running into our arms, asking us about our day, what we did and what we learned. I can’t believe I will most likely never get to see them ever again after tomorrow.
…but… I guess that’s not true. Someday I’ll have all of eternity to spend with them. And instead of dirty, ripped clothing, they’ll be dressed and fed like kings and queens, wearing the crown of life. I can’t wait to see what our dance parties will look like then.
