Wait For Me

It's been a few days now since I arrived home from Rwanda, the jet lag is starting to subside and Stephanie is back at school. The quiet inside my house is deafening and the sadness in my heart at times is overwhelming. Has this journey changed me as a person? I'd have to say no -- I changed many years ago, or maybe this is who I always was and I let life and circumstances get in the way. I knew this would be a difficult journey; I prepared myself as best I could. I faced my fears, and forged ahead to challenge myself in ways I could have never dreamed possible. I found courage and strength I never new I possessed and still it was not enough. I worked hard and gave all that I had in order to find sponsors for children I would be meeting and yes that is good, but in the grand scale of need that I was confronted with -- it was woefully insufficient. I find it hard to take comfort in the fact that I did my best; sadly I have learned that there are times in life when our best just isn't good enough. There is nothing I can tell myself to make it better when confronted with a room full of HIV positive mothers at an emergency feeding center, breast feeding their babies knowing full well that the disease that is ravaging their bodies may be passed on to their nursing child. Their options are few, feed their babies formula to negate the transmission risk and deny themselves the medications needed to stay alive. Save the babies - the mothers die. Save the mothers, and some of the babies will die. They choose the lesser of two evils, how can we who have so much allow this to happen? Knowing this would never be allowed to happen here in Canada is a bitter pill to swallow.

I discovered that I myself am deeply flawed, there were times I could not look at the children, I cowered and faltered drowning in my own inadequacies, their needs were just so great and all I had was myself. I could do nothing to ease their suffering, I wanted to run, to leave them all behind and shut my eyes. Just when I thought I could not go on another moment, tiny fingers entwined in my hair and the gentle stroking of little hands upon my skin would bring me back to reality. There in the sadness and despair, children calling photo! photo! that one small thing I could do for them brought smiles to their faces, it wasn't much but it was something.

Along with the sadness there were moments of exquisite joy and hope that seemed boundless, staring out the back window of our van as we bounced along a road that was only fit for goats to travel upon; children running behind us their little feet kicking up clouds of red dust, waving, laughing, so full of joy if made your heart ache. Suddenly there she was maybe 4 years old her bright red and white shirt caught my eye, I waved and when she saw me, a smile that could light up all of Rwanda filled her face and she began to run. She ran and ran as fast as those little legs could carry her; great big jug of water on her head be damned, she was keeping up with the big kids! The faster we went the harder she ran, the look on her face seemed to be saying wait for me! Stop the van! Stop the Van! Kathy yelled. As we pulled to a stop all of a sudden there she was smiling up at me, a look on her face like she had just won the lottery; it is a moment frozen in time, a face I will never forget, hope and innocence that was so beautiful and pure it took my breath away. Her strength and determination gives me inspiration to keep fighting for all these precious little children who deserve so much more.

When you look at her face, please keep in mind the least of what you have is more than she could ever hope for. Maybe today is the day you choose to become a hero to a little boy or girl just like her. Call me, together we can bring hope where only moments ago there was none.

Carol
email: cmarocco@shaw.ca