Yesterday, I went back to the hospital and the kids ward.
It didn’t seem as bad when I walked in and once again, I thought I was prepared.
Everything seemed better than the first time around.
There were A LOT more kids, the nurses were keeping busy and everything just appeared to be brighter.
I went with
Chad and kind of showed him where to go and then we split and did our own thing.
I went to the back, with the older kids, and handed out pieces of paper and crayons.
They would draw and I would come back and check on them every once in a while.
We would talk (or I would make hand motions) and would color all kind of different things.
One little guy drew a sports car.
I asked him if he had one.
His eyes got really big and he shook his head no.
I smiled, and said, “me either” and he laughed.
They were a really talkative bunch (more of them spoke English as well) and not at all like my first visit.
Another little guy in the next area was having an IV inserted.
He was all alone and crying.
After they were done, I went over to him and just tried to talk and make things better and we colored for a bit too.
One of the times I checked back in with him, he was crying, so I went over and started rubbing his back.
For some reason, it just seemed to make him cry more and he would just look at me with a blank stare…kind of like suddenly he was scared.
I kind of pulled back and wondered if he had been abused.
I wondered if the ways I was touching him reminded him of the way his abuser touched him.
I put my hand on his head and prayed for him and told him that he was loved, gave him some more crayons and kept moving.
I didn’t spend that much time with the babies, though there was one really cute little guy that when I made faces, would light up with the big gummy smile.
I wanted to hit the kids in the rooms.
A lot of the kids were older in the rooms and in the little “equipment closet” there were 3 ladies with babies, that would tell me there children are feeling better.
I poked my head into room 3 and saw this little face light up and a wave.
The little girl in there was the last one I saw when I left the first time.
She was bubbly and outgoing and full of smiles.
She seems to be around the age of
4 or 5, but it’s hard to tell here.
She helped my spirits rise when I left the first time.
We talked briefly and I prayed over her.
She made me feel like there was hope in all of this.
So, when she saw my head in the window this time, she got all excited.
I went in to her room the first time and gave her stuff to draw.
She was all excited to show me that she had a Bible stories coloring book and took out her crayons, one by one, and showed me all the colors.
When I came in the second time, she showed me her stuffed animals.
So, she took two and I took two and we put on a little puppet show.
It was about 3 bears and a cow (thanks to Chik-Fil-A
J
) but it worked!
I then noticed her bandages and noticed they were around her stomach and legs.
They were oozing blood and smelled and I wondered when the last time they had been changed were.
I thought they must hurt, but she looked like nothing was wrong and was in high spirits.
I also thought about the little girl Michelle wrote about in a blog (in June) and wondered if this was the same girl.
I wanted to come back a third time to say good bye, but when
Chad and I got to her room, I didn’t see her.
Then I heard screams from across the hall.
The room was labeled dressing room and there, on the table, was my little girl, naked, thrashing and screaming as they were getting ready to redress her wounds.
We just stood there, not believing what we were seeing.
From her stomach down past her knees, there was pink flesh around huge red sores.
I’ve never seen anything like that.
She knew what was coming and was screaming as her grandmother was trying to hold her down.
It took a lot with in me not to go through the doors and try to comfort her in some way.
I had to walk away as a tear started to roll down my cheek.
Later last night, I went out to be alone and journal for a while.
Chad came out and asked if he thought they really were burns.
He saw things like that last year and thinks it’s a STD that eats away at your flesh.
My heart broke.
In other words, the little one that has brought me so much joy and hope, the one who made me smile…may be a rape victim.
I don’t get it.
I’m trying to go back today just to love on her and see if I can find out what’s going on.
She was in one of the rooms and with the people out in the hallways, it makes me wonder if all of these people are AIDS patients.
It appears like they have out-casted them, but maybe it’s just the appearance.
It also seems that the ones in the rooms are the ones that are full of hope and love to have others around.
Maybe it’s because they realize how short life is and are appreciating it for every moment, no matter what the circumstance.
I still don’t know why I’m so drawn to the place or what God is trying to show me through all of this, but I believe some light, life and hope will come out of all of this.
We leave for
South Africa tomorrow.
Please continue to pray for us.
Love you all…
