under a starlit sky

As I sit quietly under an immense expanse of sky that is blanketed with stars, I am amazed.  Amazed at how I, a brown haired, blue eyed Mizungu, ended up here in the home of an old grannie and her two grandchildren, Simon and Rebecca. 

Despite being in Africa for 18 months over the past 3 years, there are still moments where I feel like I am in a dream.  This is one of those moments.  A moment where, in the darkness of nightfall, my heart wavers between sorrow and delight.  Soft playful singing escapes from Simon’s 6 year old lips, a sound which brings a smile to my face.  How privileged I feel to be here.  To witness such an innocent expression of inner joy that I have only prayed for.  I am mesmerised by the scene in front of me and I silently thank God for giving this young boy a song to sing.  For giving him a dance to dance under this starlit sky.   With nothing of material worth to be thankful for and everything to be bitter about, it is clear that Simon has CHOSEN joy.  He lives in a seemingly hopeless situation - His parents are dead; his grannie ill; no food in the house; no chance of attending school; no bed to sleep on or blankets to cuddle under…and yet Simon sings.  What secret does he hold that I don’t?  I know that tonight while I may sleep shivering, with my cheek on the hard, dusty ground and my stomach grumbling, I also know that I will return tomorrow to a cupboard full of food and a soft bed laden with clean blankets…and I am sure I will find something to complain about.  And yet Simon, lacking much, will still be here with a song in his heart.  It is at this point that I can’t help to think about the darkness that is hiding in mine – I feel ashamed – I have all I could have ever asked for and yet I expect more. 

I focus my eyes again on this boy, searching for some resolve.  Small bursts of dust rise up around Simon’s small bare feet, and as he continues his joyful dance under the moonlight, I get it.  This moment is just another piece of my journey; its another opportunity that God is using to teach me something.  How thankful I am for this truth!  Thankful that I am understanding more each day what it really means to rest in HIM, to find peace in his love despite my situation.  I am thankful that tonight I have learned that I am not just here for Simon and Rebecca, but that they are here for me.  It truly is a beautiful thing when God teaches us about REAL life through the faith of a small child. - a

Rebecca, Simon and their Grannie Scholastica outside their home in the rural village

Zambia.  Only hours before this photo was taken, I was walking down a narrow dusty path, a group of kids in tow (many whom were giggling with excitement – as it is a rarity that visitors come to their village) wondering where exactly Florence, a Maranatha Care worker, was leading me.  I had visited this community before (last year as a matter of fact, with my parents) but never had I been this far out.  I was told we had crossed the invisible line which separates the DRC and Zambia, but I would have never known this if I wasn’t told.  All I knew was what my senses could take in.  The best way I can describe my surroundings is to say it is just like most of us envision rural Africa to look like.  Children in brightly colored, dusty, tattered clothes running in and out of mud-walled huts with thatched roofs, dodging chickens and woman carrying piles of woods or buckets of water on their heads with an ease that only years of practice can bring.   Thin lines of smoke rising from fires started by hungry girls now busy balancing small aluminum pots over their weak flames.  The sound of goats baying and pigs snorting mingle in with the laughter and the shouts of “Mizungu” coming from all directions.  This truly was the “real Africa” and this was the place I spent a night in April.

Florence, Simon and Rebecca's Care Worker, travels 90 minutes by foot to visit and sometimes even  stay with the children.  She is a true servant, placing this family before herself...her compassion, love and sacrifice is humbling.  Here she is with another care worker, lighting the brazier to make tea.  Prior to this she had swept the yard, helped Scholastica out of bed and collected water 3 times in order to prepare our bath water

Simon helping to light the fire so that we have warm water to bathe ourselves and the children with.

Florence, Rebecca and I collecting water from a shallow well about 10 minutes walk from their home.  They use this water for drinking, cooking, bathing and washing their clothes

Simon letting out the 6 or so chickens that we slept under this basket just above our heads that night

To the left is the ground where the children sleep.  It is hard to tell, but all there is, is an old maize bag and one peice of cloth to seperate them from the cold, dusty ground. On the right is Scolastic's "bed" - a woven mat balancing on a couple of sticks.  We slelpt on the floor just on the other side of the room

The "shower"

Simon and Rebecca posing for the camera...they were adorable! Rebecca just giggled like crazy anytime I smiled at her or tickled her and Simon loved to do karate poses

Having tea and the peanut butter sandwiches that we brought. Simon and Rebecca savoured every bite!