"A person becomes a person through other people."

This quote and the following I will soon write come from a book that Nancy let me borrow this week, Tattoos on the Heart by Fr. Gregory Boyle. He is the founder of Homeboy Industries, who assist current, former, and at risk-to-become gang members in LA. It has a religious overtone for sure, but is an incredible read overall. I would highly suggest it for anyone who needs a good read on compassion and forgiveness. The book has provided a sense of peace to me, especially in the anxiousness of this week--since I'll soon be the only muzungu in about a 125 km range.. and I'm nervous about all that free time for my brain..

Yesterday Father took us to the back-hills of back-hills, into a very remote village to have mass at a small parish his friend is pastor of. It was remarkable and we were treated like royalty. We had to process into the Church, behind the choir and in front of the priests, and we had front row seats.. actual lawn chairs.. whilst everyone else either sat on the cement floor or a wooden bench. In front of us were all of the watotos (children).. and although we couldn't get an accurate head count, we think there were about 130 of them, ranging in ages from a few months to about 12, all on the floor, quiet as a mouse for the entire two hour mass. I was so impressed. Afterward, we were escorted outside and the Parish preformed traditional dance for us, which we've seen a few times now.. but what was even more special was that the children's choir danced and sang for us.. and put our names into the song!! I wish my internet was good enough to upload the video, but you'll just have to be patient. It was absolutely precious. I could go on and on about our day, but I'll conclude with two of the people that have struck me most in my 3 1/2 weeks that I met yesterday. One was a severely crippled man who had to walk on his hands and with a terrible hunchback. But, boy, was that man joyful. He sang in the choir anddd played one of the djembes for the traditional dance. He was a very happy man and asked for his picture to be taken a couple times. I was truly humbled by his joy. Secondly was the first special needs child I met! Oh.my.heartt. He had downs, visible not to Nancy and Carol, but I guess working as an SEA for 4 years has taught me to see even clearer those God bestows the gift of special needs upon. He melted my heart. His name sounded similar to Jerome, but I couldn't quite pick it up. It is rare to see special needs kids in 3rd world countries, Fr. has told me. People do not have the resources or understanding on how to help them.. so, sadly, more often than not, they are hidden away from the world by their families until they die. But not him. He was being held by his sister during the entire celebration. His smile and laugh reminded me of the passion I have for such incredible kids and made me yearn for home even more, where I learned the true gift of kids like Jerome from my mother. I became more of who I am to be because of encountering these two African people. They brought Christ to me yesterday.

Today started my actual first day teaching and it went pretty well, all things considered. I was done teaching by noon and decided to come home until lunch at 1:30.. well, in that hour, I really broke down and for no apparent reason. But, after thinking about it, I haven't much yet.. I've cried for what I've seen and my heart has broke for most of the children I encounter, but I haven't selfishly cried yet.. and as my dear sister, Chelsea P. Sledgeski, wrote to me before leaving, napping and crying are perfectly acceptable on the daily if you need. I do wish I could write her from here, if anyone reading this does, would you please tell her how much I miss her? and that I often sleep with the cross she gave me. After crying, I decided to lay down but felt unsettled and for the first time in a long time, I grabbed my rosary out of my bag to cling to. I brought this specific rosary to Africa to give away because it reminds me of a not-so-awesome time in my life, but, instead of the other one I brought, I purposely grabbed it and Mama provided the relief I needed almost immediately. (She works faster than Imodium! Ha-Ha)

I rested for a short while and then went to my living room, where my beautiful housekeeper always has lunch ready for me. She, of course, asked how I was feeling and continued making me feel welcomed, even whilst I carried a heavy heart. And then she became Christ to me today. She remembered that the first time we met I told her how hard it is for me to eat the fish here because in America we only have fillets, no bones about it! And here, I see the skin, eyes, and tail when trying to eat and then encounter hundreds of tiny fish bones when picking through. She served me my regular matoke, rice, and beans.. and then, smiling ear to ear, showed me a pot of fish that she painstakingly removed the bones from for me. I almost cried. Her service to me today was immeasurable. I am humbled beyond reason by her gesture.

I will end today's post with a longer quote from Tattoos on the Heart.. (and be expecting more, I have 7 already written down.. ) Have a good week, keep me in your prayers as you are in mine. Oh and I shan't call you out on being such a gift to me, but thank you to one of my best friends for the inbox today.. It brightened my day in a way you do not understand. Thank you for being such a gift, friend.

 "I've come to trust the value of simply showing up--and singing the song without the words. And yet, each time I find myself sitting with the pain that folks carry, I'm overwhelmed with my own inability to do much more than stand in awe, dumbstruck by the sheer size of the burden--more than I've ever been asked to carry."