February 10, 2016
If you know me at all, you probably know I always have a buddy. Somebody significantly younger than me that I’ll hang out with fairly regularly. These relationships have always come so naturally. With kids in the youth group I volunteered in, with a friend’s younger sibling, with a friend’s child. For whatever reason (probably because I like to act like a child), I always hit it off with a kid I’m around and get my buddy.
As we arrived at our first ministry site in Mazola, Mozambique, I didn’t know what to expect. I knew it was a boys home and that we would help in whatever way we could, but was unsure of how that would look. As we arrived and started getting into the teaching and administrative things, it proved challenging for me. The tasks were fine. We were able to check several things off of the list, but relationally, it was hard. The relationships that usually come naturally for me seemed to be locked behind this wall called Portuguese. How in the world am I supposed to build relationships with these boys when I can’t even talk to them?! Normally, I can break ice by making them laugh but saying something ridiculous. That was out. I was doing good to ask them what their names were.
It was hard for me to watch some of the other girls, who could speak Portuguese or Spanish, connect with the boys. Since I couldn’t, I took on as much administrative stuff as I could in order to feel purposeful.
Sometime during week 2, the boys began preparing ground to plant a garden. They would be up and working by 5 am or so to beat the heat. We were invited to help them but it wasn’t required of us. One morning after a few of the girls and I went for a walk, we came back and attempted to help them work in the garden. We did a bit of raking, picking up weeds and, really, not much else. We did more hanging out than helping.
They finished their work, cleaned up the tools and we were all heading to get ready for the day when someone threw some water on someone else. Honestly, I have no idea who started it, but a water fight broke out between four of the boys (Fernando, Bruno, Alito and Sidik) Anna Lauren and myself. It turns out we were breaking the morning rule of making too much noise, which I had to apologize for later, but this was the event that broke the ice with the boys for me. It required no talking!
I went in and was reading my Bible when Alito (pronounced ah-lee-too) started sneaking up behind me, poking me with a wire. I tried to handcuff him with it, but only got one hand done before he turned it around and tied my hand to the other end. We sat, hand cuffed together as I read my Bible and he drew pictures in my journal. I had found my buddy. Later that day, I was painting a mural of a tree on the wall in the prayer room we were decorating for Angie. At one point, I turned around and Alito was there watching me. I still speak no more than 5 words of Portuguese, but I’ve connected with this boy and I don’t want to lose it. I handed him a paint brush and pointed at the wall where I needed some brown paint. We painted together in comfortable silence.
For the rest of the time we were there I wanted to hang out with this boy at much as I could. I could barely talk to him – he understood a bit of English when I asked him questions, but for the most part we hung out in silence. We painted with water colors, we played cards (he shook his head and laughed when I didn’t understand the game he was trying to teach me, but I got it eventually), we lied on the floor as he showed me the words he’d learned in English class. We looked and pictures together and we got really good at miming.
The last Sunday we were there, a handful of girls and all the boys went to church together. The night before, I asked Alito if he was coming with us. “Iglesia Amahna?” He shook his head and said “Nao.” I found out the reason he didn’t want to go is because his family is Muslim. They don’t practice, but it’s the religion they claim. He did end up going to church, but was not thrilled about it. It breaks my heart to think this boy doesn’t know my Jesus.
Alito is not one of the boys who lives at Beacon of Hope. He was just staying there with his cousin for the school break. His future home is uncertain. He is mischievous and has so much potential that could be channeled positively or negatively. Pray that he is able to live in a place where he will learn and accept the Savior!
I left a piece of my heart with each of the boys at Beacon of Hope, but Alito and one or two others, got a chunk that was a little bit bigger.
