We drove three hours into the African bush to visit an
orphanage. We spent those hours in a van
on a crazy African road, so wild and bumpy that neither sleeping nor reading
were options. I had three hours to
ponder much about life, and what I’m learning out here. We’ll save those musings for another blog
though.
Back to the destination.
An orphanage. Not really a place I was super excited to visit. In many ways, at this point in the month
(week two in Kenya),
I’ve just been doing what I’ve been expected to do. Just going through the motions. So, I was along for the ride to the
orphanage. We arrived to see dozens of
little Kenyan children running toward the van.
As soon as the door was open, then were all over the people closest to
the door, grabbing at hands as everyone climbed out.
My only thought was ‘Please don’t touch me. Please don’t think that just because I am a
Muzungo that I like kids.’ Yeah. Like that was really going to help. Suddenly I found myself with three children
attached to my hands. I looked down,
expecting to be irritated. But when I
looked into their eyes and saw their excitement shimmering back at me, God gave
me grace. That is the only way I can
explain it. There was nothing but
affection in my heart for these adorable children. The director of New Hope orphanage, Pastor Robinson, showed
us around, from the fishpond to the classroom/church to the sleeping
quarters. I had anywhere from two to
five children attached to me all throughout this tour. This is the longest time in my life I can
remember having strange children touch me without a look of annoyance or
revulsion on my face. I actually enjoyed
these kids!!
Pastor Robinson is an incredible young man. He has been married for nearly three years,
and New Hope
has been open for two years. His wife is
in school to become a doctor, so she is gone during the day most of the
week. Two years ago, he saw many men and
women in his community dying of AIDS, and leaving their children behind to fend
for themselves. Suddenly an eight year
old girl becomes the head of her household with two or three younger siblings
who are now her responsibility. Pastor
Robinson had recently graduated from Bible
College here in Kenya (we saw
his grades, he got an A- in Spiritual Warfare!), and he felt that the Lord was
urging him to do something. So he
started New Hope. My team looked at him in astonishment when we
realized that not only has he been married for three years and has 84 children
(I’d like to see any couple in the US try that), but this amazing Man of God is
only 23 years old.
These kids have so little, and the saddest part is that they
are the lucky ones. There are 84
orphans, all of whom sleep in one rather small hut. They sleep on straw mats on an earth floor,
sleeping wherever they can find space.
They don’t even have mosquito nets, despite the fact that this is a
malarial region. The classroom/church is
pretty much just a bunch of sticks with a leaky corrugated steel roof. They usually get a single meal each day of
ugali (corn). And yet, I say these kids
are the lucky ones. At least here,
Pastor Robinson cares about them. They
have not been forgotten.
