She Trusts Me!

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.