We’ve become very good friends with a family that we met the first week of our morning walks. We first met the aunt, who lives on our street. She ran to catch up with us the first morning we went out walking. She introduced herself with such an eagerness and excitement that we knew we would have to see her again. A few days later we saw her sitting with some others in the front yard of a house a few streets over.
One of the women with her, Ciso, was cooking deep fried potato goodness and selling them from a bucket to passersby on their way to school. Ciso is a woman of few words, but the words she does manage to give a voice to she does with a tenderness and love, a warmth that wraps around you with a smile. She is a mother of five, a grandmother to one, and a sister to 11. She runs her household with love and dignity, and she holds a wisdom that I haven’t, unfortunately, had the time to delve into.
The oldest of Ciso is Christopher. A young man of 22, he’s gentle and kind. We met him several days after we had met the other children, but he brought a completion to the family, as if he humbly filled any roll that presented itself vacant in the household.
The next is Chisomo. She just turned 20 the day before Valentine’s Day, and she’s ever bit as spunky as you’d expect her to be upon first glance. She has one of the biggest and most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen, and a joy to match it. Her yearning for friendship doesn’t come from a place of loneliness, but a place of understanding the joy of loved ones.
Then comes Cynthia. She’s a quiet 17-year-old who sees everything. I’m constantly humbled by her attention to others, the way she notices needs, and meets them with unwavering grace. She goes to college in town, and her wisdom and knowledge exude from her in the loudest of quiets (think on that).
The second to youngest is Louis. A boy of about 15, he serves with the heart of a man. He allows himself to laugh with a fullness of joy, yet he brings a gentleness to the atmosphere. I remember meeting him for the first time, as he sat by his mother with the most loving of smiles. He’s truly a gem in her eyes.
The last is Christian. He’s 9 years old, and adorably bashful. But just like his siblings he welcomes with love and tenderness. A few weeks ago he had lost his two front teeth, and when we stopped to visit he tried not to smile to hide his embarrassment. It didn’t last long, though. He decided, on his own accord, to buy us a couple of treats from his mother, and the smile that stretched across his face as we accepted was far more precious than the idea of any 9-year-old with the goofy smile of absent teeth.
The youngest of this crew, however, is the 2-year-old Glory. She is the daughter of Chisomo, the granddaughter of Ciso, and the ball of light that will make you smile in any circumstance. When we first met her she barely spoke to us, but she would walk up with arms raised, ready to be held. As the weeks went on, she graduated to running up when she would see us coming, and to the limited phrases of “good” and “bye, I love you”. Now, she has morphed into full on comfort around us, as she proceeds to exit the bath and run around in full birthday suitage. And sassy doesn’t begin to adequately describe her funny little personality.
We’ve spend short amounts of time with this family, during morning walks, and occasionally an extra visit in the afternoon. I don’t know them as deeply as I know my best friend, but I know deeply the love with which they treat us. It’s a love that comes from those who understand what it is to be loved. I think the one thing I’ve learned from them is what it is to be a person who loves with everything, no matter the circumstance. They are a family of seven under one roof, and Ciso sells little potato snacks to bring in money, so they don’t have much, but what they lack in physical comfort, they make up for in love and compassion. A week or so before we left, they gave us beautiful fabric wraps as gifts. It was very obvious that these came from their own closet, and I think that’s what touched me most. There’s a story in the Bible about well-to-do citizens who give the minimum of what’s expected for an offering at the temple, and a poor woman who gives everything she has, which doesn’t even amount to the percentage the others have given. Yet Jesus says she has given the most because she’s given all she has in love and faith.
This is what I think of when I think to this family. They give because they love, not because they can. And yes, I hope I’ve ministered to them adequately, and shown them the love they deserve, but honestly, I think I was the one who needed to meet them more than they needed to meet me. It’s amazing how we can set out on a journey to make an impact in others’ lives, yet we’re the ones who have been impacted and changed by the end of it all. And now I’m here writing about them and giving my snacks away to homeless men in bus stations and thinking on what it means to live a life of giving, not because I can, but because I love.
And here’s the cherry on top of it all. As I said in the beginning, the person we first met, the one who started this whole relationship, was the aunt. Her name?
Love.
