"As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself and one for helping others." -Audrey Hepburn

My mammy (grandmother) once sent me a lovely email comprising of a poem written by Audrey Hepburn. This post reminded me of this excerpt.

"As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself and one for helping others."

I wrote this a few days ago, but I was unsure whether to put it up… Have you ever been in a moment that is difficult to put into words? It reminds me of explaining a hard goodbye, a great date, or the feeling when your favorite song comes on the radio. This was one of those moments…

I do not believe I have ever been this tired. Tonight as I lay in my sleeping bag and think about my day, I want to curl up and remember every detail but at the same time, obliterate every single thing. I thought I knew what it felt like to have my heart broken. I’ve seen poverty 20 minutes from my home and in far countries. I’ve seen people hurt each other for no apparent reason. I’ve been mean to my friends, and unfair to boyfriends and parents. I have wasted food, and been incredibly selfish. And I have had all those things done to me as well… But this kind-of hurting is foreign.

Nothing I have ever done or seen has compared to my day today. I have never felt this small. I’m not sure if I am disgusted with myself or others, but I feel dirty, and taking a shower will not shake the feeling.

Today the group visited two houses that were built by Giving Hope for two needy families. After we visited the families (made up of all children) the Giving Hope group served us a meal and took turns talking about their life experiences. As we sat there many people gathered around to watch and stare at all the mazungus (white people). I noticed a little girl crawling through the crowd; she blended in with the dusty ground. I would like to say she was beautiful, but in all honesty she was not. Some kids were ridiculing her, but she never looked at them. I found this scene very surprising because some of the mean kids were Giving Hope children. I thought those children would understand what it means to be ostracized and isolated. After we received our meal, I took mine to the little girl and tried to communicate with her. I noticed half of her body was paralyzed or did not function… She could not walk. She was incredibly dirty. There were black bugs and puss in her ears. Her scalp was dry; she probably had a skin disease. Her nose was all dried up. Her clothes were covered in dry mud; I have no idea what color they should have been. She reaked, and at first I thought she was a boy.

A few older boys started to talk to me. One of them spilled beer on my back-pack which understandably annoyed me because I was trying to concentrate on this little girl. I gave her my plate of food and the rest of my Coca Cola. As she was eating she never looked up. A boy came between us and started to express his love to me and told me we needed to get married (this kid was dead serious). I asked him to ask the girl’s name he said “Doma.” I used him as my translator as I tried to talk with the girl. I rubbed her back and gave her more food. During our conversation she asked if when I left, if I could bring her with me (she said this without looking up from the ground). I told her “I wish I could.” As I sat with her, more boys proposed, and over 15 kids just sat around us watching and staring as I put my arms around this girl (she was probably 14). The boy told me the girl did have parents but they were not loving and did not feed her every-day. After an hour or so, the group started yelling at me to join them at the van. I could not bear leaving the girl. As I motioned to leave, for the first time during that hour, Doma looked up and told me, through my future husband translator man, “you are my mom.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I told the children to take care of this girl for me; when they saw me start to cry they nodded. At least for a second they made me think they would look after her.

I gritted my teeth, and I tried to hold myself together as I walked to the van. I broke down once I got inside. A few of the US visitors we were with that week tried to comfort me. I was really surprised the situation got to me.

Before coming to Rwanda, I worked with non-profits in Charlotte and Durham. I spent my summers working in camps with at-risk children from government housing. Because of the Humanitarian Challenges FOCUS I’ve read about poverty, disasters, and corruption all over the world. Although all of these studies were interesting and opened my eyes to really horrific occurrences, nothing compares to the poverty I saw this past week in Rwanda.

I still ask myself how I managed to climb into the van. How do you turn your back on a crippled little girl who does not eat everyday. A girl who is made fun of and has never seen kindness or love. Unfortunately there are many children here and all over the world with similar stories.

Again I asked God “how can you let these people live in this poverty?”
God replied “how can you?”