I met a family in Kenya that touched my heart deeply. It was a family headed by a young man. He was is an orphan himself, and caring for his four brothers and one sister. Their parents- both deceased. Their father died of cancer and mother died of AIDS. The story is sad enough, but compares in no way to the sadness I saw in their eyes.
They live in a small two room home. The metal roof provides shelter from the rain. It protects them from the elements outside, but not from the pain of the past. As we walked into the home, one from our group flipped the light switch on and off trying to bring some light to the dark room. The young man told us he had no electricity. Not sure a light switch would have brought light to the room. Didn’t matter, the light bulb would have been hidden from the dark cloud in the room anyway.
The kids were dirty and in clothing that was torn and tattered. It was chilly outside and most had on summer clothing. There were a couple pieces of furniture in the first room, but not much. It had the kind of furniture the thrift shops wouldn’t dream of trying to sell. Even they would turn away these pieces. The other room had a garmet bag hanging from the window. This held the clothing for the family. There was a small plate of Ugali sitting in the room. It was the only food I saw in the house. It was rock hard. A small plastic cup sat near by. No water source was in the house. On the floor was a dirty piece of foam. The foam was cut into the shape of a full sized bed, I suppose. (Above Picture) It was on the ground and was so very saturated with dirt and past moisture. This is where they sleep. A T-shirt was placed at the top. I am assuming it served as some sort of pillow.
The children sat so quietly and closely together. These brothers are close and no doubt look out for each other. I smiled at the youngest one. Tried to get him to laugh. Teased him a bit and made a few goofy faces. He sat and stared back with an empty look in his eyes. I suddenly remembered I had some balloons in my pocket. I blew one up for each of the children. They took the balloons and held them close. Not sure if they knew what to do with them. I asked for one back and took it and hit towards one of the boys. It hit him smack in the face. It startled him. I waited for the response….waited…waited..and there it was. A smile and giggle. The boys then started hitting the balloons back and forth. It was as if that had been the signal that it was ok to have fun. It felt like Christmas for a few minutes. The excitement of a new toy, playing and forgetting about the troubles of your world. Who knew the simplicity of balloons could bring such joy?
We were having fun with the balloons, and I had a thought. I should blow up one more balloon for each of the boys. Then, we could have a room full of balloons in the air. That would be fun! I started blowing the balloons up and handed them each a new balloon. They each took the balloon and suddenly ran to the garment bag and stuffed the balloons in it. They patted it as if to make sure the balloons would be safe. They were saving those balloons as if they were prized toys that they wouldn’t want to use up too quickly. I of course let them do it, but it made me sad.
One of the boys had a torn shirt with an American flag pattern on it. I couldn't help but think how his life would be different if he was here in the US. I think about the family everyday. Are they warm? Did they eat today? What will they play with after those cheap balloons pop? Is their house dry? Do they still have that sad look on their faces? I pray for them and ask you to do the same. The pain they have endured is no doubt hard to carry on those tiny shoulders. The oldest child and caregiver to the family said he dreams and wishes for his brothers to be able to go to school in their future. I join him in that prayer and hope they all will grow to be close to Him and to know and serve Him well. I pray they will have the joy in their heart that they so deserve. I ask you to join me in that prayer for them as well.
They live in a small two room home. The metal roof provides shelter from the rain. It protects them from the elements outside, but not from the pain of the past. As we walked into the home, one from our group flipped the light switch on and off trying to bring some light to the dark room. The young man told us he had no electricity. Not sure a light switch would have brought light to the room. Didn’t matter, the light bulb would have been hidden from the dark cloud in the room anyway.
The kids were dirty and in clothing that was torn and tattered. It was chilly outside and most had on summer clothing. There were a couple pieces of furniture in the first room, but not much. It had the kind of furniture the thrift shops wouldn’t dream of trying to sell. Even they would turn away these pieces. The other room had a garmet bag hanging from the window. This held the clothing for the family. There was a small plate of Ugali sitting in the room. It was the only food I saw in the house. It was rock hard. A small plastic cup sat near by. No water source was in the house. On the floor was a dirty piece of foam. The foam was cut into the shape of a full sized bed, I suppose. (Above Picture) It was on the ground and was so very saturated with dirt and past moisture. This is where they sleep. A T-shirt was placed at the top. I am assuming it served as some sort of pillow.
The children sat so quietly and closely together. These brothers are close and no doubt look out for each other. I smiled at the youngest one. Tried to get him to laugh. Teased him a bit and made a few goofy faces. He sat and stared back with an empty look in his eyes. I suddenly remembered I had some balloons in my pocket. I blew one up for each of the children. They took the balloons and held them close. Not sure if they knew what to do with them. I asked for one back and took it and hit towards one of the boys. It hit him smack in the face. It startled him. I waited for the response….waited…waited..and there it was. A smile and giggle. The boys then started hitting the balloons back and forth. It was as if that had been the signal that it was ok to have fun. It felt like Christmas for a few minutes. The excitement of a new toy, playing and forgetting about the troubles of your world. Who knew the simplicity of balloons could bring such joy?
We were having fun with the balloons, and I had a thought. I should blow up one more balloon for each of the boys. Then, we could have a room full of balloons in the air. That would be fun! I started blowing the balloons up and handed them each a new balloon. They each took the balloon and suddenly ran to the garment bag and stuffed the balloons in it. They patted it as if to make sure the balloons would be safe. They were saving those balloons as if they were prized toys that they wouldn’t want to use up too quickly. I of course let them do it, but it made me sad.
One of the boys had a torn shirt with an American flag pattern on it. I couldn't help but think how his life would be different if he was here in the US. I think about the family everyday. Are they warm? Did they eat today? What will they play with after those cheap balloons pop? Is their house dry? Do they still have that sad look on their faces? I pray for them and ask you to do the same. The pain they have endured is no doubt hard to carry on those tiny shoulders. The oldest child and caregiver to the family said he dreams and wishes for his brothers to be able to go to school in their future. I join him in that prayer and hope they all will grow to be close to Him and to know and serve Him well. I pray they will have the joy in their heart that they so deserve. I ask you to join me in that prayer for them as well.
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