Why go?

Here is something I pulled off my friend Joe's blog. I'm working on him to come to South Africa with Chad and I, I think he is getting close to joining us.

News Article: Forgotten Children (by Becki Rippey with stories from Michell Ricker)
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

If you come to South Africa and work with us, you will never forget the children you encounter. One of our past trip participants shared her experience with us: I will never forget the children’s faces.

Faces like 16 year old Almon from the Mpumalanga providence. His shoulders were drooped with weariness when he sat down in front of me. His school uniform had holes worn through it and his frame was too thin. He had never known his father and his mother had died of AIDS the previous year. He was trying to hold the family together living in the family’s old shack. He had two younger brothers, ages 12 and 7, and a sister age 10. He was going to school during the day and working for an uncle in the evenings, cutting and delivering firewood, to try and make ends meet. His prayer requests were for food, a school uniform for his brother and that he could hold the family together.

Faces like thin beautiful Joyce, a 15 year old orphan. Her parents both died of AIDS and she lives with an aunt and uncle. Through her tears, as I asked her about her usual day, she said, “No one loves me and I don’t know why.” She told of her aunt and uncle putting the food on the table for supper each night for them and their 5 children. Everyone comes to the table except her. She is made to sit and watch from the living room. If there is food left over after all the family leaves the table, she can eat. Many nights there is nothing left. Her prayer request was for food and that someone would love her.

Faces like 11 year old Nelly from the Free State providence. Her father had died when she was very young. Her mother had died in 2004, probably of AIDS. She told me she lived with her grandmother. I asked her if she treated her well and she said, “Yes, my grandmother loves me very much.” Then she began to sob. Her grandmother was sick and she didn’t know where she and her sister would go if her grandmother died. Her grandmother has an open wound on her lower leg that is getting worse. It had started from a garden hoe accident. Grandma could no longer walk or fix meals. They could not afford to go to the doctor. We cried together as we prayed that her grandmother would be healed and recover.

Faces like 10 year old Thabiso. His mother had died the previous Saturday of AIDS. He didn’t have a father. The grief was very fresh but he tried to be manly and not cry. He lost that battle when he told of his mother’s pain getting worse, her going to the hospital and not coming home. He and his brothers were living with their grandmother. His prayer request was that he wouldn’t die of AIDS and that his grandmother would be able to feed him and his brothers.

Faces like beautiful 16 year old beautiful Sabelo who had been an orphan for 3 years. She lived with her grandmother and sisters. Her friend had been raped walking home from her house two months ago. She knew how AIDS was spread and she knew her parents had died of AIDS. She was a virgin and wanted to stay that way until her wedding night. She cried for her friend and wanted to know how her friend could get an AIDS test. Her plan for protecting herself was to never go outside alone after dark - not even in her own neighborhood of tin shacks. Her prayer request was for her friend not to get AIDS and that she could remain a virgin until her wedding night.

Faces like 11 year old Mocso whose shoulders were stooped and whose eyes were downcast. No amount of coaxing resulted in a smile. An orphan, he lived with his aunt and uncle. His skin was pasty. He was the size of a 7 or 8 year old. His clothes were dirty and had holes in them. He had no socks and his shoes were too small with one sole loose. His face was thin and pointed, just skin over bones. When I took his hands to pray his boney fingers told the story of too many days without eating. His prayer request was for food. I cried as he walked away. I won’t stop praying for these precious children whom the world has forgotten.