I would like to tell you a story. It starts a long time ago with a young woman named Wilhemina. She grew up in a poor village in Africa. So poor that she needed to leave it and her family to survive. Wilhemina traveled out of her village nearer to the city of Windhoek, Namibia. She couldn’t find a job or a place to live. She tried very hard to get her life together in this new place, but soon there was a new law passed and everyone living in the area had to be registered and have proper documents to live in Windhoek. Because Wilhemina was a foreigner to this place she couldn’t obtain the proper documents and had to hide away so she wouldn’t get caught. She found refuge in the city dump where she and a few others would live, hidden among the trash piles. Here they would collect what food they could from the rubbish, make clothes out of the scraps, and dig holes into the piles to sleep in. Wilhemina describes making her bras and undergarments from plastic orange bags that were discarded to the pile. Though life seemed dreary, there was one wealthy woman that would come to the trash piles. She would bring fresh homemade food for the residences of the dump in exchange for the collected batteries that they would scavenge the piles for. What seemed like a simple task would soon change Wilhelmina’s life forever.
As Wilhemina and her friends would begin scouring the piles for the batteries that would promise a warm meal to fill their bellies, the young women came across a horrific scene. Hidden in the piles of trash were the bodies of infant children thrown away like the bags that once held juicy fresh oranges.
In Namibia abortion is extremely prevalent. Even as my team landed in Johannesburg and traveled across South Africa into Namibia abortion posters are scattered around the walls of the city like seasonal battle of the bands posters. Every few feet is another poster reading “safe 30 minute abortion call: Dr. so-and-so” followed by the number that would surely get you this “safe” procedure. As for the infants left in the trash piles, I learned this is what happens to the unsuccessful abortions or the ones that can’t afford the procedure. The women wait full term, have the babies, and then smother or drown them and throw them away.
This broke Wilhemina’s heart. Perfect children, God’s children discarded and deemed worthless by the very women that brought them into the world. Soon the babies were discovered by others. The workers that were there to maintain the trash piles discovered the bodies and they discovered a few of Wilhelmina’s friends. Wilhelmina was able to hide, but watched as they blamed her friend for birthing the babies and then stabbed her with a broken beer bottle. After they left Wilhemina went to her friend and held her as she bled to death. Wilhemina made a covenant with God “Lord I will take care of these children who are not wanted if you will save me from this place.”
Soon after this heartbreaking incident the woman who brought warm meals in exchange for the batteries returned. As she learned about the awful news she decided that she needed to help Wilhemina. They left the trash piles together. This woman nurtured and cared for Wilhemina, she learned more about the Lord and many years later she did as she promised God she would do. Wilhelmina gathered the funds she could, and trusting God, she began to take care of the children of Windhoek who were abandoned.
Today Wilhemina is rarely referred to by this name. Anyone who knows her today, calls her “Mommy.” There have always been children to take care of. Before Mommy was even 16 years old she had left the trash piles and was taking care of children. At one point she was at a small house taking care of 110 children all on her own. Mommy doesn’t make any money. She has completely relied on God all the way to provide and care of the children. The Namibian government doesn’t help. They are fully dependent on God.
I am with Mommy today. We are the first WorldRace team to serve at the home that is now named Moria Grace Orphanage. Not all of the children here are without a family. Although some are true orphans who have no mother or father or family who could or wanted to take care of them. Others are here because their families are so poor they cannot care for them, and some of the children are here because their parents are alcoholics and unfit to be caretakers. All together there are 84 kids ages 3-20 living in the home today. Here they are loved, fed, and nurtured by Mommy and Papi (Wilhemina’s Husband) who is every bit as much a father as Mommy is a mother.
Most days the children only have porridge to eat (maze meal), they only have donated toys (that often look like they came straight from a trash pile). Occasionally they will get half rotten vegetables and bread to fill their bellies, but they sit together as a family, each getting their portion and thanking God for what has been provided.
I have witnessed a miracle. The miracle of saving grace, and how the Lord can save one heart to call many others to himself. At Moria Grace they know the Lord. They sing praises and know the stories of the bible and study them, even though they don’t have their own copies. They still know these words and hold onto them dearly. It is there bread when they don’t have anything to eat, and their promise that they are loved when they are rejected by those who should have loved them most in the world. I have witnessed the testimony of a woman and a man who have truly given up anything this world could offer them to live to serve the least of these. To be the mother and father to so many who who were called worthless- they gave worth to them. The children who were seen as trash have become treasure. Mommy and Pappie see them the way Jesus saw them. Full of life and worth dying for.
I am far away from home this Christmas season. In Africa it really doesn’t look much like Christmas the way I know it except for a few christmas decorations here and there. It is so hot that it seems like Christmas in July. I miss my family and our traditions. I hate that I can’t gather around our tree and celebrate this holiday like I have before, but in the strangest way I am home for Christmas. I am with family. They don’t look like me, or talk like me, and they don’t participate in Christmas tradition the way I am used to it, but I am right beside my brothers and sisters. Even though she is not my birth Mother- Mommy has become a mother to me too. In that kingdom way, going where we are led and being right in the middle of God’s plan- I am home for Christmas.
