I came to Zirobwe on my first day in Uganda, and I fell in
love with this place right then. It would be hard not to love the people here,
the children, the community, the hot days, beautiful green landscape, and blue
skies. These are all things that I am immersed in while in Zirobwe, and I could
easily be happy here the rest of my life. The longer I spend in Zirobwe the
more and the stronger are the relationships that I build grow. I frequently
take long walks around the village going to visit different families that I
have gotten to know well. And even though I am nowhere close to knowing all of
the children’s names (I still meet new ones all the time) I have put so many
names to their faces.
One of the families that I know consists of three boys and a
girl, and sometimes their father. They lost their mother earlier this summer
before I came. The father is often away and when he is home he can be abusive.
When I met these children they had just become sponsored and they were getting
ready to go to school for the first time in their lives. The oldest boy was 11
and taking care of his three younger siblings, the youngest of which was not
even two. He used to always carry her everywhere and she would cry when he put
her down. None of the four children smiled much; in fact it was clear that they
were struggling with the recent passing of their mother. The youngest Nettie
always had a permanent frown on her face and would scream if anyone came near
her.
It took many weeks before Nettie would let me come near her and
hold her. Even so the frown stayed and it always felt like I was carrying dead
weight. Still, every Sunday when I saw her I would run up to her and pick her
up. I would hold her through our whole Sunday school service, often getting up
with her to lead worship or the story. Sometimes, she would even fall asleep on
me. Our relationship was completely one sided, she only tolerated me.
I’m not really sure when it changed. This whole time I have
simply wanted her to feel loved. No child especially one so young should feel
so hurt and abandoned. Each time I held her I would comfort her and tell her
that I loved her. Slowly, she stopped squirming when I picked her up, and she
was content to sit with, and unhappy when I put her down.
Then this past Saturday something happened
that I will remember for the rest of my life.
The sponsorship day Christmas party was at our house that day and all of
the children who are sponsored came for it, including Nettie and her brothers.
It was her first time in Kampala and I saw Nettie standing to the side looking
very overwhelmed. I ran over and picked her up as I always do. I held her as we
did registration and she fell asleep on me right away. I debated laying her
down inside but I decided to wait a little longer. When the music started she
woke up. I remember she started playing with my hair (which I happened to have
down that day), and I gave her a big smile. She had never really done anything
but sit and I was thrilled that she was playing with my hair. I just kept looking
down at her and smiling. And suddenly, her face completely changed. The deep
frown, which was the only expression I’d ever seen on this two year old, was
gone, and in its place was a beautiful smile. As quickly as it had come it was
gone, but my heart had stopped for a moment. I didn’t think that I would ever
see this little girl smile; I didn’t know she could smile. Never has a child’s
smile brought me so much joy.
After almost 7 months of loving her she finally
knew and understood how much I cared about her, and she was happy about that.
Later, that day after she had woken up again I received my second smile, and
then one more as I held her before she left. Nettie’s smiles are very brief but
they completely change her face, and suddenly you can see just how beautiful
this child is. With her huge brown eyes a smile lights her whole face up.
The next day was Sunday and we always come to the village on
Sundays to teach Sunday school. It was the children’s day here so the kids sang
and preformed a Christmas play for the church. I had been in charge of the play
and was narrating, so of course Nettie slept on my while I did that. In the
afternoon when everyone else went home I stayed in Zirobwe along with one of
the other girls. I got to hold her later and again she smiled at me.
Monday, I took it upon myself to scrub her down, do
something about all the ringworm growing in her hair, and remove any jiggers
that she had. The first two were easy enough. But I had to call one of the
other girls to help me remove a jigger from her finger. I have removed a few
jiggers from my own feet (they are something that you can’t really escape if it
ever rains while you are in the village), but they are easy to take out and not
very painful if you get them out before the eggs hatch. The jigger we found on
her thumb was very infected and it was huge. I held her; kissed her, and
whispered to her while Nahni used a needle to extract the giant jigger sack. It
was bigger than her nail and left a deep hole about half the size of her finger.
She didn’t cry the whole time. I can only imagine how painful it had been for
her.
In moments like those I wish that I could protect her. I
don’t want to have to take jiggers out of her fingers and feet. I don’t want
her to be hungry all the time because it’s just her and her brothers. I don’t
want her to grow up in the situation that she is in. I want to do something
about it. Yet, I realize that only God can really protect her. I won’t always
be there for her but He will. And for the time that I’ve had with her I have
made a difference already. Even if it’s just showing her that she can trust
someone and reminding her how to smile. That’s pretty big. And I am so blessed
to have been that person who was there to hold her.
In years to come, when I’m thinking back about my time in
Africa, I know that I will think of Nettie and of the first time I saw her
smile. Maybe one day, I’ll even get to hear her laugh. It’s something that I’ll
most certainly be praying for.
