It was just one of “those days” yesterday. Ya know the days when you want to do a whole lot of nothing with a whole lot of no one. It was a HOT February afternoon. The 95 degree scorching sun seemed like an easy way out of ministry for the day. Something in me decided I should probably suck it up and grab some people to walk down to the care point anyway. After all, it’s our last week in Africa. (I’m sure by now you can probably catch on that I didn’t exactly have the best attitude.)
*Sidenote: For those of you that don’t know exactly what I mean by “care point”, allow me to explain. A care point is essentially an area set up for orphaned or local kids to come play during the day (most of the kids there during the weekday do not attend school). There is a swing set for them to play on, and a whole bunch of little kids. Everyday the kids are fed a meal there after school made by one of the “gogos”. This is a Swazi word for grandma. For some of the children, the pourage they are fed is the only meal they eat all day. Many people going on mission trips to Swaziland work with care points. The kids hunger and thirst for love. The second they see you walking into the gates, they run as fast as they can just to be the first one that gets to be hugged or picked up.
My two closest friends on the squad, Courtney and Kiley, walked down the road to the care point–hot and sweaty. And probably complaining more than we should about both. When we got there, the kids came running as usual. Some of the biggest smiles you will ever see and arms outstretched as they ran. I picked up my favorite little gal Xollile (co-lee-lay), and held her for an hour or so. After the kids began to eat, I noticed a little boy being carried to the gate. The older boy carrying him dropped him off in front of the gate and he just sat there. Some of the children were staring at his foot, so I went over to check it out. When I looked at his foot, I noticed a huge gash it in. There was purple dye all over his foot so it was hard to see how bad the cut was. Because most of the locals cannot pay for hospital visits or good medicine, most of them have this very basic antibacterial cream which looks like purple dye. The gash on his foot clearly needed to be stitched up, but because no one knew how long it had been there, we didn’t know if that was possible anymore. He couldn’t stand on it and seemed completely emotionless. I have to admit I’m not the best with these things, so I called my friend Courtney over (who eventually wants to pursue heading down the medical field). She looked at it and agreed it didn’t look good. I suggested that we go find his mom and take him to the hospital. Luckily his 10 year old brother was there, so he directed us into the village to their mother. His mother didn’t seem very concerned and didn’t hesitate when we asked to take her two boys to the hospital. We told them we would be back tonight and she just nodded, handed us a dirty, torn-up shirt for the little boy. Before we left we asked how old he was and she seemed unsure replying “uhm, 3 maybe 4”. We quickly went off back to our base to see if someone could drive us to the hospital. I carried the little boy on my back the trek back. He clung one arm around my neck and the other hand tightly gripped with his brothers hand walking next to me. This was more than likely the first time either one of those boys had ever been outside of their village. Fear ran over the 3 year olds face and excitement over the 10 year olds. We made it back to the office and thankfully one of the workers, Bo, was there and without hesitation told us he would take us to the hospital. We grabbed our wallets and were off! To the boys luck I had just bought some cookies that day. That quickly added some smiles to the van. The little boy clung tight to me as he laid on my chest. By this point, he had already peed on me and sweat drenched my shirt. The smell coming from the boys was honestly one of the worst smells. In that moment, I couldn’t have cared less. None of us did.
When we got the emergency room, a few doctors asked us questions before being seen. The brother had to answer most of the questions. I think he liked the responsibility :). We were seen minutes later. They laid him down on the table and began cleaning his foot. The brother stood by him and help his hand the whole time. It brought tears to my eyes. The doctor said that he needed stitches when the cut happened. By then we found out he had stepped on a broken bottle. Because it had been a few days, she could only clean out the cut and prescribe good medicine to hurry the healing process along. The sweet little boy didn’t cry the whole time, even though you could clearly see that he was in pain. Without insurance, the emergency consultation, cleaning and medicine only cost $36 USD. A small $12 for each of us to pay and an amount that their family would never be able to afford. It put a lot into perspective.
After we finished up, we bribed our driver to take us to the mall and take the kids out to dinner. By this point we had made nicknames for the two boys- the older, Moose, the younger, Sebo. Once we got to the mall, it hit me that Moose and Sebo have most likely never been to a mall. They were in their ripped up, dirty clothes and had no shoes. Most of the people in the mall are the wealthier Swazi’s. They didn’t even know that they looked out of place, they were just so excited. We made it right in them before the store closed and let them pick out some new clothes and a pair of shoes. Smiles beamed on their faces. They began to talk to us (still is siswati) but it still meant a lot because they felt comfortable around us. We took them out to dinner and in the bathroom I changed Sebo into his new clothes. My heart broke as dirt fell out of his pants, and still mud caked the inside of his legs.
Both of the boys ate their chicken sandwiches and fries while slurping down their grape juice. Sebo warmed up quick and was bouncing all around the booth laughing and slobbering food all over. The older brother, Moose, ate his plate completely clean and still had lots of room for ice cream and a sucker for dessert. On the way back to their village, the boys were laughing and making jokes in the car. Our driver, Bo, mentioned that he was sure this has never happened to them before. It blew my mind that something as small as a new shirt and a chicken sandwich could mean so much to these boys.
Court, Kylie and I were talking after we dropped the boys off. Kylie mentioned “isn’t is crazy to think that we could have missed out on this just because we were too hot or lazy to walk to the carepoint. That little boy may never have gotten the help he needed.” It made me wonder how much I miss out on because I simply am “not feeling it”.
Yesterday was by far my favorite day here in Manzini and those smiles will never leave my heart.
A quick update: My squad will be in South Africa for a week beginning this Saturday for debrief. We will then be flying to Nicaragua after having a few layovers (two of which are in the states- crazy!) Bring on the chipotle!! I can not believe I’m entering the last leg of this journey. We are still not sure when we will be getting home in May, but it’s pretty unbelievable it is 3 months away. Bittersweet! Please continue to keep my squad mates and I in your prayers.
God is great, all the time!
With so much love,
Kristen
