Saturday at the Slum – Photos from a visit

Here they come! The rush of kids! No flyers passed out, no announcements made. We just turned a corner and they came running.

It was a Saturday morning. The temperature was rising as the morning coolness waned underneath an overpowering sun. The atmosphere reminded me of my own childhood in Florida and play dates with friends on Saturdays. When we turned the corner of a brick wall to a dirt street, the pleasant memories rushed out as a group of rambunctious kids came charging down the path. No organized play dates for them! No parental units. No cartoons. No ice cream truck – only a bicycle offering coconut milk from wooden containers. The field they had to play with was full of trash. Not many of them had underwear. More than one probably had lice and worms.

Apart from our main responsibility of teaching English at a Christian school during the weekdays, our team had met up with another ministry called Water of Life. Water of Life is a discipleship dormitory for young men and serves as an umbrella for several other outreaches including orphanages, a girls’ dormitory, a clinic in the slums, and more. My teammate Amanda is a nurse and the maternity clinic outside a slum was an amazing opportunity for her. While she held tiny babies and served moms in a crowded clinic, we decided to check out where these women and their children lived.

We didn’t bring any games but we gave what we had – high fives. They LOVE high fives. And they LOVE their picture taken. Cassie held one little girl for over 20 minutes. Just held her.

It is easy to look at that morning and think we didn’t do much. When I thought about it later, God reminded me that I don’t see the big picture. Sure, we didn’t roll out a big program or do a drama or give out toys or candy. But that morning we were meant to turn the corner and laugh and play and hug and take pictures and hit high fives. 

Only God knows what was “accomplished” that morning. Perhaps our presence prevented one of these kids from being trafficked that morning. Or a beating by a parent. Our presence could have only been to bring sunshine to a bleak Saturday morning. And if so, praise the Lord. 

I know I’m thankful for their smiles that morning – and thankful for my Saturday childhood memories.

The miracle premi – just over 2 pounds when born. The nurses say they’ve never seen one so small, so young live outside an incubator. Where does she live? In a shack in the slums outside the clinic. 

All grins and giggles – loving the attention.

The neighborhood playground.

Flies hum – batting them away is just an every-twenty-seconds routine.

The cocconut milk bike.

There’s some sunshine!