junior.

5.17.08

The Empower A Child sponsorship program started by ICY’s Jen and Wilson had a meeting on Saturday at our compound. The sponsored children and their guardians were invited for breakfast and lunch, to follow up on the progress of the children’s school performance and needs, as well as write letters to the sponsors overseas.

Among the crowd of children was Junior and his grandmother. I had first met Kabugo Junior Charles a few weeks prior at the Compassion International week-long program. He had been in a small group with Benon, Sarah, and me. When the kids of Compassion started writing their response letters to their sponsors, Sarah and I noticed that Junior had no letter in his hand. Instead, the small twelve year old boy was walking around the other students and helping them write their letters, correcting grammar and suggesting topics to write. Sarah and I asked Benon why he was not working on his own letter, to which we learned that he was not sponsored since he was a bit too old to be enrolled into the program. I was upset to know that such a bright boy would be denied the opportunity to go to school because of his age. He was so well-mannered and clever…how could someone refuse him the right to feed his mind just because he lacked the financial ability to pay his school fees? I literally viewed it as a crime. There must be some way to find him a sponsor.

After one of the Ugandan ICY volunteers researched his situation, Ivan reported back to Empower A Child about Junior. Unlike many sponsorship organizations, Empower A Child has no restriction on age. As long as a child is in need and has the desire to further his education, EAC will give the opportunity of sponsorship to the child.

I considered the situation. If I did not buy a new sweater one month, or passed on a few restaurant meals, or even cut down on my use of gasoline, I could pay for Junior to go to school each day. I prayed about it and pondered about my own future resources, and decided that it was important for me to know Junior was fueling his passion for knowledge. Such a small amount of money that I would spend at an American mall without considering its true potential…and yet, it literally held the promise that a Ugandan child could attend class.  

Ivan and I had gone to the place where Junior stayed with his grandmother a couple weeks prior to the meeting. We had hiked up a very steep and high hill for about fifteen minutes. I tried to imagine the children who lived at the top walking all the way up the path which was too steep for even boda bodas and other vehicles to drive up. Ivan explained to me as we panted up the hill that there are a lot of rocks located around there area, so many orphaned and homeless children move to the hill to perform heavy labor, crushing the rocks to gravel which brings in the smallest income.

A nearby church provided the home where Junior and about eight others stay with only two rooms about 11 x 11 feet. Their house had caved in several years ago, and they had no place to live. Ivan and I entered through the door, which immediately almost brought us to the opposite wall. In the first room, which was so dark that it took my eyes several minutes to adjust and see that the room was crowded with what little furniture they had, there was someone sleeping a few feet away from me on a mattress. We talked with Junior, his grandmother, and some of his aunts and cousins as to discussed his background. Before Junior’s second birthday, both of his parents had passed away from HIV/AIDS. Junior’s maternal grandmother and aunt have been raising him ever since, and he had not been told that his aunt was not his biological mother, as he had believed, until only a few years ago. To learn so late that he was an orphan had really traumatized him, and his aunt explained to us that he didn’t begin to interact and act as lively again until recently when he participated in Sunday school and other activities.

I took some time to speak with Junior and asked him about his favorite things to do, his favorite sports and which team he supports, and what he wanted to be when he grew up. He explained he had a love for science and wanted to help people as a doctor some day. I was so encouraged and told him that I fully believed he could become a doctor, if that was what he wanted. Though he seemed a bit shy and kept his head down, he lifted up his face, smiled at me, and nodded slightly.

After our time visiting, Junior and two of his younger cousins walked to the end of the property with us. Since Junior would be required to attend the Empower A Child meeting, I told him I was looking forward to seeing him again.

When he had arrived to the Empower A Child meeting on Saturday, I cheerfully watched him run around with the other kids and smile brightly. He raced around the compound, with broken sandals about 6 sizes too large for him. Sarah went into a storage where ICY collects donated items and found a pair of Velcro sandals that looked about his size. We called Junior into the house to present the sandals and hoped they would fit. They fit him well, and he started down at them for several moments before excitedly raising his head back up and exclaiming “Thank you!” He ran to his grandmother to show him, and she was so grateful. She told Sarah that she had been trying to figure out a way to save money to purchase a pair of shoes for him. His grandmother is the only financial resource for the household, cooking at for Compassion International programs every Saturday for 5,000 shillings. With only a 20,000 shilling [about 15 dollars] income a month, it seemed impossible for her to save.

At lunch time, Junior and I sat in lawn chairs, across from each other as we ate rice and beans. He had so much more energy and joy at that time, compared to when I had first met him at the Compassion International program. I told him stories about America, and I joked with him about how I will miss eating Chapatti so much when I go home, that I am going to try to make it myself! He laughed at the idea of me trying to make the snack. He talked about his favorite football team, Manchester United, and his younger cousin who is sick with Typhoid. It was so much fun to trade stories and see how alive and enthusiastic Junior was in telling his stories.  The time I had to talk with Junior and teach him and the other children games flew by in the afternoon. Before Junior left, I hugged his grandmother and thanked her for coming, and took a picture with Junior.

I truly believe GOD placed Junior in my life. He has been a blessing to me and I am thrilled to be a support to such an incredible boy. His enthusiasm for learning and his mature behavior makes me so proud of him. He has been through so much, and I praise the LORD for protecting him and guiding. When I came to Africa, I never imagined that I would enroll into a sponsorship program, but I see the way the past few weeks have played out and how GOD has worked throughout the time. I am blessed, and I want to pass along my love for CHRiST and for others.

I have had a unique opportunity to build a relationship in person with the student I will sponsor. I know of many people, including each of my parents, who sponsor children through other programs. I know that it means so much to receive letters and pictures from the child whom they sponsor, and I do not take for granted the opportunity I have had to spend time with Junior. 

Through working with both Compassion International and Empower A Child, I have seen the way that sponsorship changes lives. When I return home, I know that I will be an ambassador for this cause, and encourage people I know to be blessed and to bless others through sponsoring a child.

 

To find out more information on sponsoring a child, visit www.empower-a-child.org

“hit the bottle.”

5.15.08

Jed, Laura, and I will be departing Africa from Tanzania in just a few weeks, so our last visit in Uganda to Remand Juvenile Home was this week. When we arrived, a tiny boy no older than a second grader was sitting on the ground in the outside classroom across from where all the other residents were seated. As we waited in the other outside classroom for the academic lecture to wrap up, the curious boy came over to us and sat down on the bench beside Jed. According to what he told Wilson, he had come to Remand after riding into town on the back of a truck. I introduced my camera to him and watched in amazement at how entertained he was, as well as how young. Such a tiny boy in a juvenile prison seemed to be an abnormal situation to find. 

            Billy led worship songs with his guitar, as we all settled into the larger classroom several minutes later. The room erupted with singing voices, clapping, and stomping. From the front of the room, I looked out into the sea of faces, and considered how some falsely believe that their backgrounds have determined their future. When there was some quiet time to reflect, the ICY team members walked around the room to offer support and prayer. One young man in particular was located in the very back corner, just behind a broken metal table frame. I approached him, laid my hand on his stiffened shoulder, and asked him if I could pray for him. He nodded his head and I asked if there was something in particular he wanted me to talk with GOD about for him. While he had barely any expression on his face, the tone of his voice indicated his vulnerability. He began to spill out stories and words expressing how he feels lost and alone as an orphan. He continued to explain how he willingly attends the worship services at Remand and enjoys the time, but has many questions about the LORD and his faith. As I prayed for him, speaking slowly and cautiously annunciating every word so that my speaking would not be hidden behind my American accent, I felt his shoulders loosen up a bit under my hand. After I finished my prayer, his entire stance had gone from stiff and defensive to a relaxed posture. He asked me if I would be back to Remand, and I told him that I would be leaving for Tanzania in the next week, then returning to America from there. I told him that ICY would continue to visit and would be happy to act as a resource for him. I smiled at him and patted his back as I ensured him that he would be able to speak with some of the volunteers in the future. His face maintained a shielding expression, but just as I began to walk back toward the front of the classroom, he flashed a slight smile, just enough to notice the hope within him.

            So many of these kids have had such rough backgrounds, but when we visit them in Remand and lead worship, games, and skits, there really is no indication that they are juvenile prisoners, except for the bars and wires surrounding the compond. They laugh and smile during our skits, anxiously raise their hands to participate in group discussions, competitively and comically play games and show off…just like any teenager would do.

            Before performing a skit, everyone gathered into the dirt-covered courtyard to watch about ten boys play a game appropriately called “Hit the Bottle”. With five players on one side, and another five across on the other, Wilson would yell out a number. With the shout of “Two!”, a player from each side with that identity would run across the court yard to a flip flop sandal and chuck it to the center of the field to attempt to knock over the bottle of water. If they missed, they would race to the other side, pick up sandal along the way, then throw it back to the target. Once on of the players knocked over the water bottle, they would return to their designated sides, and wait for the next identity number to trigger another round with two new players. It was so much fun to watch the kids cheering and laughing, and their energy wove throughout the crowd. All the Ugandan ICY volunteers recruited Jed, Laura, and I to play on a team. Benon took our bags and cameras to keep them safe so that we may fully commit to the game. I was a bit nervous about understanding the rules, but my competitive side took over and I was ready to go. I waited anxiously for my number to be called, and screamed encouragement to my teammates who were racing back and forth. After Jed returned to our side and we waited for the next number, I geared up and was completely ready to tear across the courtyard.

Just then, however, a giant tidal wave of water ripped through our line-up, followed by several more. Before we had time to react, Jed, Laura, and I were soaked. The entire Remand Juvenile Home and Ugandan ICY volunteers had set us up! As part of their send-off, the Remand kids showered us with basins of water. As Jed, Laura, and I stood in the center of the courtyard, abandoned by everyone else, we laughed and squeezed out access water from our hair and clothing. I looked around to see ecstatic faces, all the Remand kids were roaring with laughter. They were so delighted in successfully pulling off their prank, and the reaction highlighted how similar they are to any other teenager. A few of the teens sweetly gestured to take our sandals and shoes to the waterspout, where they cleaned off all the mud.

When we had wrapped up our session, I went around and shook hands with some of the teens, smiling and saying good-bye. While it was just a prank, I felt honored that the Remand community took the time to plot out a send-off for Jed, Laura, and me. It was their way of showing that they cared about the relationship we had with them, and that they had embraced our time there. While we walked through the gated door at the entry to leave, I took a final glance back and waved to Remand Home. I pray for all the teens who are currently there, and for their futures; that they make positive choices and pursue their dreams when they are released back into the outside community.

 

braids.

5.9.08

To my delight, many of the children at Kyambogo Church whom I had met through the Compassion International program last week came to participate in the “Glory to Glory” conference this past week at the same location. I had the opportunity to volunteer in the Children’s Wing, along with a few other ICY international volunteers.  Throughout the week, we led bible studies, games, songs, and other activities with the children. Thursday, as nervous as I was to speak to a large elementary-aged crowd, I had been asked to deliver a short message. The entire week was so much fun to spend time with the children and get to know each one better.

             On Friday, the closing day, we spent the morning following the scheduled routine. After the songs and prayers had concluded, there seemed to be some free time. While I am not certain how it started, all the children divided among the four ICY American volunteers and began to braid our hair. Laura, Jen, and I sat in lawn chairs scattered throughout the gymnasium, and even Jed’s long hair was fascinating to all the kids. As the students between ages 7 and 12 hovered over us and braided strands of our hair, I smiled and laughed at the scene. Half a dozen children had divided my hair up into variously sized locks, and they announced the names of the different “saloons” each of the ICY volunteers were currently located. The enthusiasm they had to create various styles of thick braids, small braids, many braids, one massive braid, was entertaining to observe. I felt so blessed throughout the week to spend time with the children, and I was excited to see how thrilled and amused they were to style our hair during the final session of the last day.

            I believe that I sometimes do not fully comprehend the significance that the ICY program has on the community by which it is surrounded. While I sat patiently for about 30 minutes, groups of children exchanged smiles and excited chatter about the “Mzungu” hair styles they had created. While I hardly put in any effort to sit in a chair and allow children to display their creativity, it seemed to be the highlight to their entire day. I am continuing to learn how it is the simplest acts that make the most impact. …Braids. Braids in my hair. It seems so silly to think that woven hair can bring so much joy to a child. That day, I left in the late afternoon, waving good-bye to some of my favorite little kids at Kyambogo, and walked down the dirt road with a trendy new hairstyle. 

sunglasses.

5.6.08

It took a wildly winding matatu taxi van ride, a long wait in the taxi park for the connecting bus to fill up with passengers prior to departure, a slight delay to rearrange travel plans resulting from the missed bus stop, and an improvised boda boda ride to get us to our destination. Almost two hours from the time Felicity, Jen, and I left our ICY house in Ntinda, we were finally walking up to the gate of “Need for All” orphanage. Tucked away off a remote dirt road is a humble residential house that cares for ten children between the ages of one and a half and seven.  As we entered through the metal gate and into the front yard, a small crowd of young children came racing out of the house and jumped into our arms or wrapped themselves around our legs. Jen and Felicity had been active in volunteering at “Need for All” in the past, but this was my first visit. It didn’t matter to the children, however, that I was a complete stranger. They treated me equally to Felicity and Jen right from the start, grabbing for my hands and demanding my attention.

The children who live there come from some very traumatic backgrounds. The only two girls each represent heart-breaking stories. The police brought in one little girl after it was discovered that her father raped her when she was six months old. The other small girl with a bright smile had been discovered cast away in a ditch, where ants were eating away at her wounds. Many of these children have come from tough situations at home, facing so much suffering and strain even before their second birthdays, but from the sound of jubilant squeals and laughter, I could tell upon entering how the love and tenderness of “Need for All” presented an opportunity for happiness and healing from the past.

When we walked in, I sat down on a wooden bench within the entry room and a small and fragile boy quietly approached me without me even realizing it. He was so quiet as he moved over toward me that I did not notice he was in front of me until he was in the process of trying to climb into my lap. I picked him up and positioned him on my legs, smiling and greeting him in Luganda. He buried his head into my stomach and rested quietly. As all the other children ran back and forth through the house, pulling Jen and Felicity by their hands, Peter and I sat quietly on the bench. I picked him up after a few minutes, and walked with him into one of the bedrooms full of bunk beds to see what the other children were doing. The energy of the little ones didn’t keep them in one location for long, so Peter and I sat back out in the living room and watched Jen and Felicity run with a small crowd in and out of the different rooms. Peter spoke so softly and whimpered as he buried his head back into my stomach. I wasn’t really sure how to comfort him. I asked Felicity if he normally acted shy and sleepy, and she thought he must not have been feeling well. Since everyone had made their way back outside to the front yard to play, I picked up Peter as slowly and gently as I could and found a place to sit on the porch. With my back against the wall and my legs stretched out, Peter positioned himself on his belly, and laid parallel on top of my legs. He hid his head back into my stomach and whined quietly. I tried to stoke his head to calm him down. Feeling a slight sense of panic, I continued to ask Felicity for advise on how to make him more comfortable, but she shrugged her shoulders with a worried expression and commented on how he is usually much happier and energetic.

As other children scurried around outside and across the porch where Peter and I were sitting, one little one approached me and pointed to my sunglasses. I took them off and placed them on his tiny face and then took a picture. He delighted in seeing himself in the shades, and I laughed with him as he stared at the image. Peter had been watching this scene and his eyes expressed the desire to have the sunglasses on his face as well. I gently lifted him off my legs and was careful to place the sunglasses tenderly upon his tiny head. Immediately he lit up and giggled and energy seemed to flood his body. I snapped a photograph of him wearing the shades and showed it to him. Peter’s bright smile spread across his face and I could see how amused he was to recognize himself with a big pair of sunglasses in the camera’s display screen.

Something about wearing those sunglasses transformed Peter. He exploded with life, and couldn’t keep the smile off his face. I will never know what it was about the sunglasses that created a whole new outlook on the day for Peter, but I thank GOD for the blazing sun that encouraged me to run back into the house before we left and get my sunglasses!

compassion.

5.4.08

“Praise be to the GOD and FATHER of our LORD JESUS CHRiST, the FATHER of compassion and the GOD of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble…” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

  This past week, our team had helped out at a day camp program put on for students within the Compassion International sponsorship organization. Since the students had several weeks off from school, all those in the Kyambogo neighborhood, who are supported by sponsors partnered with the organization, were present.

Each day, children as young as four and up through their final year in high school came to play games, worship the LORD in songs, listen to speakers, eat breakfast and lunch, study the bible, and spend time with friends. Many of the ICY Ugandan volunteers were once sponsored through Compassion International, and now help to lead small groups, as well as organize the events for the next generation of sponsored children. It was incredible to be able to experience the power of Compassion International and gain insight to such an important part of the lives of my friends. As I ran around outside with the kids, I tried to picture ICY Uganda’s director Wilson, and volunteers, Ivan, Benon, Ronnie, Abraham, and Douglas as small boys running around on the same patch of grass. Today, these young men are so committed to sharing GOD’s love with others and contributing their time and efforts to help other people. Compassion International’s significant impact shaped them to be who they are now, and I was so enthusiastic and encouraged to think about the potential of the next Compassion generation.

            Sarah, the ICY administrator, and I joined a small group of elementary aged children [in the morning session] and high school teenagers [in the afternoon session] led by Benon. Spending the week with these students, I was inspired by how intelligent and enthusiastic they are about learning. The kids are so bright, and I am grateful to know that they all have their potential fed through the opportunity to attend school. Literally, if not for families and individuals financially supporting these students, they would be unable to afford the school fees to receive an education. I was overwhelmed on the Friday, when all the students at all grade levels joined together in one room to celebrate the week-long program. I looked through the room at a sea of smiling and energetic Ugandan faces, and reflected on how many families and individuals from across the globe were represented.

The compassion of people who have the ability to sponsor a child deeply reflects the love and grace of GOD. As the LORD blesses us, we are able to pass that blessing forward and make an impact on another’s life-even across the world. I witnessed the joy spread across a child’s face as he was passed a letter from his sponsor family, sharing how they love him, pray for him, and how special he is to them. Ivan and Benon had both talked with me about how their relationship with their sponsor through letters has encouraged them. They both recognize that a complete stranger had decided to give through Compassion International, providing them with an academic education, supplies, and outside-classes, which highlighted life skills. As they spoke about how much their sponsor meant to them, their dazzling facial expressions and emphasized hand gestures displayed how powerful that relationship had been to their life. The appreciation they have for their sponsors is so immense, and I wish that I could write to their sponsors to explain to them how incredible these two young men are and how proud they should be of Benon and Ivan.

The Compassion International sponsorship program truly is helping a young generation of children around the world to develop into future leaders. ICY’s Jen and Wilson hope to grow their beginning organization, Empower A Child, to be just as significant. As I have seen first hand the impact of a sponsorship program, I want to encourage people who have already committed or are yet to commit to sponsoring a child. These programs are absolutely making a difference in the lives of the children, which I am confident will eventually and directly effect us in a positive way as these leaders grow and take the world into their own hands. GOD is the FATHER of compassion, and HE allows for us to also share that compassion. It is compassion one has for another, displayed through the gift of support and love, that comforts those in need and encourages them through the future. 

loving JESUS.

 4.27.07

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40

             The above passage is taken from the 25^th chapter of Matthew, as JESUS is teaching on comforting and providing for others. HE is sharing that feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, inviting a stranger into one’s home, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, and visiting those in prison are not only acts of kindness and love for those people, but also righteous acts directly reflected to CHRiST HiMSELF.

            Sunday afternoon, I had an opportunity to visit a prison just outside of Kampala. Having no prior experience in entering an adult prison, I was a bit nervous to go into the facility. Daniel, however, is very committed to prison ministries in Canada, so he was very comfortable with the idea. Also, Herman, one of the Ugandans who volunteers with ICY, often spends time outreaching to men and women in local prisons. By no means was I worried or frightened, but it was my lack of confidence in being able to relate to the people that troubled me. With Daniel and Herman’s experiences to support our cause, and the above bible verse in the front of my mind, I felt more comfortable about the visit.

            I was very surprised when we arrived to the facility. No more than some shrubbery and a line of barbed wire serve to maintain the boundaries between the outdoor courtyard of the prison and the outside world. A guard let us in through the large metal door and we walked across the dirt-covered courtyard to the long and narrow slab of raised concrete in front of the large holding cell, which seemed to only be divided into thirds. The prisoners were all seated and lined up, crowded into several rows. They were passing clothing along in a great bundle as we took our seats in the three chairs they provided us. It seemed that some did not have any clothes at all, and that perhaps the provided clothing would only be temporarily worn. Some of the men held large, broken and cracked jugs where they took sips of water, and passed it along to their neighbors. Few had shoes, and the clothing they all wore was tattered and faded. Adjacent to the holding cell was a small, open structure where dark smoke poured out and across the courtyard. I struggled to breath through the thick air, littered with ash, and my eyes burned from the fire of that kitchen.

            Herman spent several minutes addressing the men in Luganda, and I waited patiently for Daniel and I to introduce ourselves. When Herman called me forward to speak, I could feel the intensity of all the eyes directed at me. I smiled and spoke slowly, making sure to pronunciate all my words so that my brief message would not be lost from my American accent. Once Daniel and I had the opportunity to say who we are, Herman began to lead the men in song. Even the few women in the prison joined in, singing Luganda lyrics from the corner of the courtyard. I enjoyed seeing some of the men, who had looked tired and empty upon our arrival, sit up a bit straighter to clap and sway to the music of their voices.

            Daniel spoke to the audience using relevant stories and bible verses to encourage and comfort them all. It is my understanding that all of them have sentences less than three years, many probably serving time for stealing food to feed their families. I watched the faces of the men listening to Herman interpret Daniel’s words, and saw the hope and relief glowing in their eyes. With Daniel’s closing prayer, it was evident from the positive and energetic responses how much of an impact the visit had been.

            Before we left, Herman led Daniel and I walked over to the handful of women seated on the ground, who had been timidly watching from the corner of the courtyard. As they exchanged words in Luganda with Herman, I looked down at each of the women. Their faces were smeared with sadness, and their dark eyes immediately darted to the ground every time they looked up at me. Herman told Daniel and I that many of them had children at home, with no parents and no funds to support them. The children of some of the women were ill, and several of the women themselves were sick. Herman asked if we would like to pray for the women, so I knelt down on the dirt beside the women. I smiled and looked them all in the eyes before I began to pray out loud for their needs and for their comfort.

            When our visiting time frame came to an end, we walked back across the courtyard to the entrance. I reflected on Matthew 25. While a short visit with the people in the prison seemed like such a small act, its impact was great. The men and women inside the prison’s walls have so many needs, are ill, without clothing, and separated from their children who now live alone. They are viewed so lowly by society and have little interaction with outside visitors. But they are GOD’s children. They are loved by CHRiST, despite what they have done in the past. And showing love to each man and woman inside that prison is showing love to whom they belong. It is showing love to JESUS.