There once was a boy named Joseph. He lived in the Samburu Region of Kenya in a town called Wamba. His residency was at a children’s home called Kind Fund, an orphanage for children who were abandoned or where not cared for at home. He is 1 of the 62 children that live here.
His personality seemed shy and quiet at first. But then I got to know him. Most encounters with him were awkward and he didn’t know what to say most of the time. There was a time when he came around the corner while I was having team time and said he loved me and wanted to be friends. At this time he also befriended my teammate Maci.
Encounters like this continued to happen. Maci and I didn’t know what to do for him other than just continue to show him love. We both kept getting this strange feeling around Joseph so I went to one of the staff of Kind Fund and asked if he had any background story that could explain the way he acted. She informed me that he acts like this every time new people come into the orphanage and that they believe he has some form of a developmental or emotional disorder. Sadly, they are unable to find out what exactly because they lack the funds to get him tested.
Maci and I continued to love on him and give him as much attention as we could afford. We realized just how much he cared for us by the amount of letters and drawings he made for us and when he was so concerned about Maci’s foot injury that he was in tears.
In the last couple of days we were at the village Joseph began to act even stranger. Most every time he would come around either of us he would just start crying. He would try to talk to us but he spoke so softly we could only pick up on a few things he said, most of which was about how he didn’t want us to leave.
We didn’t know what we could do to tell him that it is going to be okay.
Then I thought about a cross.
I still had one left to give.
Maci and I went to him and tried our best to explain to him that we wanted to give him this cross so he could remember us and that we will always remember him.
He kept trying to give it back to me but I told him it was for him to keep, just like the letters and drawings he had given to us. I even asked the manager of the compound to explain why we were giving him the cross. He seemed reluctant to keep it but finally did.
I was just happy that I could bless him with something he could keep to remember us by.
