After a few weeks of playing with kids from the gypsy community and today we said good bye. Today was the first time I’ve cried saying goodbye on the race.
The afternoon started with us picking up the kids on an over crowded bus. I had a child on my lap and kids all around me wanting to play patty cakes. Then I felt a small tug at my hair, I ignored it, then another, and another. I turned around and smile at the small boy who was tugging my hair. He smiled back playfully as I turned around. Then he took out my hair. The only hair tie that I had. I asked for it kindly back and his playful face went to anger. “No” he said. I asked for it again kindly and this went on for a little bit before I gave up. We arrived to the church. He came up to me and pretended to give it back before stanching it away from me. I playfully picked him up and asked for it again and he started stomping on my foot. This was no longer a game, he was trying to hurt me and my feelings. I asked my squamate Zach to help and he was able to get my hair tie back. The kid wanted revenge during worship and ran up to me and punched me in the stomach. I said, “ no we don’t hit.” as if he understood english. He hit me again. I asked, “Holy Spirit where are you? Come.” Then as he came up to me again and went to kick me I grabbed his leg, picked him up and gave him a gentle hug. I said, “I just loooove you.” Then put him down. This happened quite a few more times before the last time when he bit into my arm and didn’t let go. I remained calm and hugged him again. Then he started to stomp on my feet again, he started to bite harder. So I pitched his nose closed so he would let go of my arm. He kicked me and ran away again, I knew he would be back for more hits later.
As we continued worship we all held hands and the bitting boy came back, grabbed my hand and tried to squeeze my knuckles together, surprisingly my hands were bigger than his so his plan didn’t work. I kept singing and smiling at him showing that I wasn’t going to stop me from loving him. He pitched the top of my hand and looked at me with a dedicated face. My other squamate Tim saw him and told him to stop, he again got up and left. After worship and after I told the story of David and Goliath be came up to me and showed me his coins. I was scared he was going to throw it at me, then he went behind my ear and acted like he pulled a coin out from behind it. I acted surprised and he went to show Tim. He was being kind. They passed out food and by then it was time for the kids to leave. I found out we could ride the bus back with the kids so I hopped on eagerly, excited to spend a few more minutes with the kids. But I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
While on the bus another girl I hadn’t met turned around in her chair and slapped a boy I was next to in the face. He started to grab her hair and they started to throw punches. I stopped it but it quickly started again, this time she grabbed his head and started banging it against the window. I separated them again and as the boy was trying to leave she again slapped him again. A little girl, probably 4 years old took the boys seat on the bus. The girl who started the fight started to “play fight” with the little girl before she again grabbed her hair and pushed it against the glass. She was laughing through all of this and honestly didn’t see anything wrong with her actions. My anger went to heart break, absolute heart break. There is only one place violence like this is learned and made normal, at home. She was at this point tired of me stopping the fights and was trying to move to a different part of the bus but I wouldn’t let her pass. After her pushing me, trying to climb over and under the chairs and what felt like eternity we made it to our destination. I was hanging on by a thread as everyone was getting off the bus and I look to my left and see the sweetest most innocent face of a child and I couldn’t fight my tears anymore. She hugged me and said, “No cry.” as I stepped off of the bus all the kids saw my tear filled eyes and asked “why?” All I could say was, “I’m gonna miss you.” I was going to miss them but those tears started from the heartbreak I just witnessed. Then these kids, I didn’t even know some most of them, started to hug me and tell me not to cry. I received and gave many hugs and started crying over and over. Tears from sadness turned into tears of affection and love. I just wanted them to know they were loved. I only had a few more moments before never seeing them again to let them know someone cared about them. Leaving the was so hard for me. I had so many thoughts, “Who’s going to show them that this isn’t normal? Who’s going to love them? What if they die to home violence? What if…? Who will…?” God will. I sat on the bus ride home and thought of those little faces and held back my tears. I came home, sat in a room alone, cried, surrendered those kids back to Christ and prayed.
Most of the time when you hear peoples stories of the race or other mission trips they are filled with happiness and achievements. Most of the time missions are like that, but other times its hard, its ugly, and it feels like a punch in the gut. These are the moments that change the people who are sent. As messengers of the good news its our goal to change peoples lives with the gospel but there are other times where our lives are changed too. You might see this story as all bad because it is indeed an awful story, but I serve a God who changes even the worst things into good. I believe God will continue His work with these kids and send more people behind me to love on these kids. I also know that moving forward there is an urgency for love from a Father. My time here is done but I serve a God who is the author of time and its never too late.
