Originally uploaded by tynemann
Why we do this...
12.03.2007
11.07.2007
Constance
Judging from her height and her stance she looks no more than ten, yet experience tells me she’s at least thirteen. She sits across from me in the car as she guides us to her house down the dirt road. She motions to the right with her hand, but says left, I look at her puzzled, remind her quickly of the English words and she looks embarrassed and says left again with the motion and the word. We pull up to a small cement structure no bigger than my bedroom at home. Behind it stands a crude makeshift metal structure even smaller than the cinder block room in front. “Here” she says and opens the door to let herself out.
Stompy is what the coordinator called her. I wasn’t sure exactly why at first, but when I learn the meaning in Afrikaans I realize that it’s in reference to her height. She told us she didn’t like being called Stompy. She liked Constance better. I call her whatever she wants and give her as much dignity and respect I can. She’s a small girl, living in a small house on the outskirts of a big city in South Africa. Her story is going to become even more colorful.
As I walk towards the house another child comes to greet us, this girl is seven or eight, beautiful smile and inquisitive eyes. This is Constance’s “sister”. A quick glance into the home reveals a small table and two chairs. A bed is hidden behind the door. No water in the house, except they tell me, when the rains come and the water floods the area; the bigger problem then are the snakes that get into the “house”. Much of the immediate family aren’t here, at least not anymore.
Two adults appear from the homes, one is Constance’s mother, yet neither one look old enough. One is a bit younger than I am and the other I guess is a young twenty something. They are the caretakers for the children. Neither of them work, the only jobs available involve an unthinkable lifestyle. Constance lives here in this small home with nine other family members.
An aunt, a father and her grandmother have all died recently. I didn’t ask what the cause of death was, but I could have taken a guess with 98% accuracy. Even if I did ask the answer would be pneumonia or TB, not the real causes. The family has no male influence helping provide any necessities. The food they eat comes from relief organizations providing handouts for two of the children, the family stretches it to provide for all, but that is all they are given.
If I were to tell you AIDS killed the family members, somehow our minds immediately wander to think of the immoral lifestyle they lived and how they probably contracted the disease. Our minds try to understand or comprehend how their sin caused this type of situation and thus resulted in their deaths. If I was to tell you AIDS caused the death of the family members would it shock you? Or do we simply justify it thinking that their sin has consequences? Unfortunately actions do have consequences, sometimes on those most innocent.
I ask Constance the names of the people living in the home. She has difficulty remembering and listing them. She gets to about eight and then has to start over. She has a brother and sister, I think. It’s hard to tell who really are brothers, sisters or cousins. Most all of the kids attend school, but studying is a problem when there’s not enough food to keep their minds from wandering and school uniforms cost money. December is coming, most people will be on holiday, the food may not be delivered during the next month or so due to a lack of drivers. Think about that as you sit down for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.
If I told you AIDS has nearly destroyed this family leaving eight children orphaned would it really matter? Who cares how it happened, what difference does it make? It’s a situation that continues to happen. Our responsibility isn’t to judge or point fingers. Our responsibility is to care for those who need help. Our responsibility is to cry out to God for His Justice and the saving knowledge of Him to be revealed. Our responsibility is not to try and understand or figure out what happened. Our responsibility is to share Christ with a hurting and victimized world.
As we return in the car to the feeding center for the orphan children, Constance, her younger sister and a neighbor boy take advantage of the free transport down the road. When we reach our destination I open the door, get out and turn around to sweep up the younger sister in my arms to help her out. Her weight and frame tell me quickly she most likely will not escape the disease that has claimed much of her family. I set her down but she doesn’t go far from my side. I see Constance heading towards the other children that have gathered for their meal of the day. Rice.
Whatever our understanding or stereotypes about AIDS and the pandemic that is absolutely destroying nations; there are millions of innocent victims who will someday be nothing more than a statistic in a book. Was it Constance’s fault she finds herself in a daily struggle to survive? Is Constance to blame for the immense pressure she may someday carry trying to provide for her younger siblings? Is it her fault that someday shortly her mother’s life may be taken as well? Is Constance to blame that she too carries the same death sentence?
thanks for reading...
Stompy is what the coordinator called her. I wasn’t sure exactly why at first, but when I learn the meaning in Afrikaans I realize that it’s in reference to her height. She told us she didn’t like being called Stompy. She liked Constance better. I call her whatever she wants and give her as much dignity and respect I can. She’s a small girl, living in a small house on the outskirts of a big city in South Africa. Her story is going to become even more colorful.
As I walk towards the house another child comes to greet us, this girl is seven or eight, beautiful smile and inquisitive eyes. This is Constance’s “sister”. A quick glance into the home reveals a small table and two chairs. A bed is hidden behind the door. No water in the house, except they tell me, when the rains come and the water floods the area; the bigger problem then are the snakes that get into the “house”. Much of the immediate family aren’t here, at least not anymore.
Two adults appear from the homes, one is Constance’s mother, yet neither one look old enough. One is a bit younger than I am and the other I guess is a young twenty something. They are the caretakers for the children. Neither of them work, the only jobs available involve an unthinkable lifestyle. Constance lives here in this small home with nine other family members.
An aunt, a father and her grandmother have all died recently. I didn’t ask what the cause of death was, but I could have taken a guess with 98% accuracy. Even if I did ask the answer would be pneumonia or TB, not the real causes. The family has no male influence helping provide any necessities. The food they eat comes from relief organizations providing handouts for two of the children, the family stretches it to provide for all, but that is all they are given.
If I were to tell you AIDS killed the family members, somehow our minds immediately wander to think of the immoral lifestyle they lived and how they probably contracted the disease. Our minds try to understand or comprehend how their sin caused this type of situation and thus resulted in their deaths. If I was to tell you AIDS caused the death of the family members would it shock you? Or do we simply justify it thinking that their sin has consequences? Unfortunately actions do have consequences, sometimes on those most innocent.
I ask Constance the names of the people living in the home. She has difficulty remembering and listing them. She gets to about eight and then has to start over. She has a brother and sister, I think. It’s hard to tell who really are brothers, sisters or cousins. Most all of the kids attend school, but studying is a problem when there’s not enough food to keep their minds from wandering and school uniforms cost money. December is coming, most people will be on holiday, the food may not be delivered during the next month or so due to a lack of drivers. Think about that as you sit down for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.
If I told you AIDS has nearly destroyed this family leaving eight children orphaned would it really matter? Who cares how it happened, what difference does it make? It’s a situation that continues to happen. Our responsibility isn’t to judge or point fingers. Our responsibility is to care for those who need help. Our responsibility is to cry out to God for His Justice and the saving knowledge of Him to be revealed. Our responsibility is not to try and understand or figure out what happened. Our responsibility is to share Christ with a hurting and victimized world.
As we return in the car to the feeding center for the orphan children, Constance, her younger sister and a neighbor boy take advantage of the free transport down the road. When we reach our destination I open the door, get out and turn around to sweep up the younger sister in my arms to help her out. Her weight and frame tell me quickly she most likely will not escape the disease that has claimed much of her family. I set her down but she doesn’t go far from my side. I see Constance heading towards the other children that have gathered for their meal of the day. Rice.
Whatever our understanding or stereotypes about AIDS and the pandemic that is absolutely destroying nations; there are millions of innocent victims who will someday be nothing more than a statistic in a book. Was it Constance’s fault she finds herself in a daily struggle to survive? Is Constance to blame for the immense pressure she may someday carry trying to provide for her younger siblings? Is it her fault that someday shortly her mother’s life may be taken as well? Is Constance to blame that she too carries the same death sentence?
thanks for reading...
9.28.2007
This one is for Chase and the rest of the class...
It’s an interesting thing traveling to new countries. There’s always some kind of cultural misunderstandings or rules that you will inevitably realize a little too late. Many of these situations happen and then become the fireside stories that missionaries sit around and tell each other in candid moments. Sorry if you guys didn’t understand all that. Let me put it another way.
Not all people in the world live as we do in America. There are a lot of people who have different rules for their communities and culture and families and stuff. For example, in the United States most kids have their own room. If you have your own room raise your hand. O.k. now put them down. If you share with a brother or sister raise your hand. O.k. you can put them down. See in many places around the world a lot of people share a room with a brother, sister, cousin, mom or dad. Sometimes they may even share with two brothers or two sisters or more. Here’s another example. If you have more than three pairs of shoes raise your hand. O.k. put them down. Did you know that in many places around the world lots of children will never have a pair of shoes. They will walk to school and home and to the shops barefoot. So everyone take off your shoes and let your teacher smell them. Then walk around barefoot the rest of the day. (But only if your teacher says it’s o.k.)
Some countries have McDonalds and KFC and different restaurants that are similar to the U.S. but in some places the food isn’t the same. Actually the food may be the same, like chicken, beef, zebras, corn flakes and toast. It’s just that sometimes we eat different PARTS of the animals. Here’s an example. I was recently visiting a country in Asia. The country is called Malaysia. Can you find that on a map? It’s near Indonesia and Thailand. I went with a friend of mine to go have breakfast and guess what we had? Chicken feet. I was very surprised to have a bowl of tasty looking chicken feet sitting in front of me. My friends all ate them, so I picked one up with my chopsticks and ate one too. It was pretty good actually. Maybe someday you can ask your mom or dad for chicken feet for dinner?
Do you guys think it’s ok to have a competition between the boys and the girls? I think we should see who’s smarter. Who do you think is smarter? Girls or the boys? I’ll think of two questions, one for the boys and one for the girls. Then we’ll see who’s smarter.
Girls:
#1- How many countries are currently in the European Union? (Without using the Internet to find out)
Boys:
#1- What is the name of your school?
So who got the question right? Boys? Girls? Tell your teacher to email me and let me know who’s smarter, boys or the girls.
Ok. Everyone have a good day and I’ll try and take a picture of a giraffe for you.
Thanks for reading…
Not all people in the world live as we do in America. There are a lot of people who have different rules for their communities and culture and families and stuff. For example, in the United States most kids have their own room. If you have your own room raise your hand. O.k. now put them down. If you share with a brother or sister raise your hand. O.k. you can put them down. See in many places around the world a lot of people share a room with a brother, sister, cousin, mom or dad. Sometimes they may even share with two brothers or two sisters or more. Here’s another example. If you have more than three pairs of shoes raise your hand. O.k. put them down. Did you know that in many places around the world lots of children will never have a pair of shoes. They will walk to school and home and to the shops barefoot. So everyone take off your shoes and let your teacher smell them. Then walk around barefoot the rest of the day. (But only if your teacher says it’s o.k.)
Some countries have McDonalds and KFC and different restaurants that are similar to the U.S. but in some places the food isn’t the same. Actually the food may be the same, like chicken, beef, zebras, corn flakes and toast. It’s just that sometimes we eat different PARTS of the animals. Here’s an example. I was recently visiting a country in Asia. The country is called Malaysia. Can you find that on a map? It’s near Indonesia and Thailand. I went with a friend of mine to go have breakfast and guess what we had? Chicken feet. I was very surprised to have a bowl of tasty looking chicken feet sitting in front of me. My friends all ate them, so I picked one up with my chopsticks and ate one too. It was pretty good actually. Maybe someday you can ask your mom or dad for chicken feet for dinner?
Do you guys think it’s ok to have a competition between the boys and the girls? I think we should see who’s smarter. Who do you think is smarter? Girls or the boys? I’ll think of two questions, one for the boys and one for the girls. Then we’ll see who’s smarter.
Girls:
#1- How many countries are currently in the European Union? (Without using the Internet to find out)
Boys:
#1- What is the name of your school?
So who got the question right? Boys? Girls? Tell your teacher to email me and let me know who’s smarter, boys or the girls.
Ok. Everyone have a good day and I’ll try and take a picture of a giraffe for you.
Thanks for reading…
9.26.2007
Fish Stars
I sat at a table last night with a young child who’s imagination grew restless after about the first 5 seconds of the adults talking. Soon the chair became a jungle gym and his food was being covertly flung across the table. A lack of discipline wasn’t this boy’s problem; his father removed him from the table three times as we tried to “overtalk” the sound of crying from the other room. Just the lack of adequate sensory input was more our fault than it was his. Soon the imagination wandered and Fish Stars somehow found themselves in the story.
Sitting out at the edge of a savanna under the moon and star lit sky the boy’s stories grew bigger and bigger as the night wore on. I seem to recall something about a lion or a leopard in one of the exaggerated tales. At one point I think I made out the part in the story where I was some kind of astronaut sailing into the sky eating fish stars. I think I rescued everyone sitting at the table by going all the way up there to swallow them to keep them from falling and hurting people. I mean think about it, who wants to get hit by one of those? It felt kind of nice to be a hero for once.
Most of the times with the Nomad (intern) teams I’m kind of a familiar face that they all try to figure out. Laughing at times, joking at times, yet pushing them to give a hundred percent of themselves to the kids in the presentations at the schools. I train them and try to teach them to rely on and trust each other. I may ask more of them, I may make them work a little hard, I may break their will to live, but I do my best to prepare them for something. See I may not be a hero, but soon they’ll be one.
Soon they’ll stand in front of thousands of children and young people and relay God’s message of Truth and Purpose for their lives. They will be the ones rescuing and protecting those who’ve been hurt and had their lives broken. These are the ones who will be a child’s answer to whether anyone cares for them or not. The child searching for hope, the child feeling the burden of raising their younger brothers and sisters, the child who on that day they enter their school, has decided to give up on life. I’ve trained another semester of heroes.
How long has it been since you’ve been a hero? How long since a child could point at you or remember the day a simple word you said rescued them? I don’t think we realize what kind of impact the smallest word or a smile, an encouraging email or a phone call can make. How much time does it take to be a hero to someone searching for hope?
Pray for those heroes that are out there right now. Two teams near the border of Swaziland, sharing a smile with those searching for a hero. Pray for safety and unity in their teams Pray for me as I work in Malawi to level the roads for teams coming here. Pray for safety and God’s direction in my life. Pray for us as we point children to a true hero, and point to Him yourself. You don’t have to eat fish stars just to be a hero.
….become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of Life…
Phil. 2:15
Thanks for reading...
Sitting out at the edge of a savanna under the moon and star lit sky the boy’s stories grew bigger and bigger as the night wore on. I seem to recall something about a lion or a leopard in one of the exaggerated tales. At one point I think I made out the part in the story where I was some kind of astronaut sailing into the sky eating fish stars. I think I rescued everyone sitting at the table by going all the way up there to swallow them to keep them from falling and hurting people. I mean think about it, who wants to get hit by one of those? It felt kind of nice to be a hero for once.
Most of the times with the Nomad (intern) teams I’m kind of a familiar face that they all try to figure out. Laughing at times, joking at times, yet pushing them to give a hundred percent of themselves to the kids in the presentations at the schools. I train them and try to teach them to rely on and trust each other. I may ask more of them, I may make them work a little hard, I may break their will to live, but I do my best to prepare them for something. See I may not be a hero, but soon they’ll be one.
Soon they’ll stand in front of thousands of children and young people and relay God’s message of Truth and Purpose for their lives. They will be the ones rescuing and protecting those who’ve been hurt and had their lives broken. These are the ones who will be a child’s answer to whether anyone cares for them or not. The child searching for hope, the child feeling the burden of raising their younger brothers and sisters, the child who on that day they enter their school, has decided to give up on life. I’ve trained another semester of heroes.
How long has it been since you’ve been a hero? How long since a child could point at you or remember the day a simple word you said rescued them? I don’t think we realize what kind of impact the smallest word or a smile, an encouraging email or a phone call can make. How much time does it take to be a hero to someone searching for hope?
Pray for those heroes that are out there right now. Two teams near the border of Swaziland, sharing a smile with those searching for a hero. Pray for safety and unity in their teams Pray for me as I work in Malawi to level the roads for teams coming here. Pray for safety and God’s direction in my life. Pray for us as we point children to a true hero, and point to Him yourself. You don’t have to eat fish stars just to be a hero.
….become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of Life…
Phil. 2:15
Thanks for reading...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
