28 of days living at a Haitian orphanage is coming to an end. 25 or so days ago I looked to this day, I’m ashamed to say, with a little hope in my heart. I love kids. I don’t have kids, I borrow other peoples’ and return them when I’m tired and want my nap. Sure, there were ways we could escape the kids here, but the reality is for the past month we’ve been living on a compound on the central plateau of Haiti with 70 kids and a world of differences separating us besides a language barrier. And today I can confidently say many of them will remain in our hearts once we move on to the next country.
Each member of team Reckless has gotten to know the children quite well. Each of us have also formed closer bonds with some over others. We have had the distinct blessings of teaching these children, trying our hardest to discipline them, trying our hardest to love them the amount they desire to be loved. Watching their personalities display themselves over the past weeks is what has strengthened the individual bonds. Norami, Amanda and Bob are a few of the names that are etched on my heart.
Norami is a little boy with huge brown eyes and long eyelashes. He is sensitive, sweet and listens very well. He stands out from the others. When I am playfully tackled from behind and I find small hands intertwining themselves with mine, I not only hope but know there’s a great chance it’s Norami showing me love.
Amanda is one of the deaf children at the orphanage. We may lack ‘normal’ communication but her fiery, mischievous spirit has kept all of us on our toes and caused me to think she would be running this orphanage if she could get more people to listen to her. I’m a 25-year-old competent adult and yesterday (mind you, she can’t speak) she tricked me into finding one of the nannies to unlock the ice chest so she could steal ice cubes for herself.
And then there’s Bob. Bob leaves an impression on the many who come and go through All of God’s Children Orphanage. A renowned favorite, you can not deny the innocence that surrounds him. Which is great in situations like this morning when one of my teammates placed him in my bed at 6:20 a.m. when I was dead asleep for a little ‘Bob time’. He is six years old but appears no older than three. We are told he has been unofficially diagnosed with cerebral palsy. It is obvious he is not functioning on a normal level, and some defect causes him to salivate constantly. Going through many outfits in a day is part of the care he requires. His spirit is strong, his smile is infectious, and it doesn’t matter to us anymore that when he wants a hug we will be covered in drool not belonging to us.
I know my whole team could go on and on about each child and what it is that stands out about them. I suppose the bottom line for all of us is how we arrived here with the mission to be a blessing to the staff and children here by giving ourselves to them, whatever capacity they needed us to serve in, and how we in turn have become so blessed by them. I’ve thought a lot about being a parent this month, a great desire of my heart. God blessed me by showing me small glimpses of the amount of work, selflessness and sacrifice it is going to take. But the most amazing preview I got was a glimpse of the adoration you can feel when tucking a child in to bed at night that you taught how to throw a football in the morning, disciplined during VBS when they purposely broke someone else’s craft, and rocked to sleep in your arms after their snack.
“Red and yellow black and white they are precious in His sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world…”
If you have enjoyed seeing what God is doing through me and my team, please consider making a donation by clicking on the ‘Support Me’ tab. I still $1,800 to remain in the field. God bless and thank you for your interest! In His Love, S
