We live in a walled plantation-style house. There are padlocks on every door, so many that many times we lived locked into our own world. The world outside of the locks is Africa. Africa is a place where people live without locks. Many times they live without doors. And sometimes they live without homes.
There’s no way to know how many of the children we meet live on the streets. There’s no way to know how many are orphans. There’s no way to know how many have parents that drink or abuse drugs. There’s no way to know how long its been since the child you’re holding has been held. There’s no way to know if anyone has ever told them they are loved.
It’s tempting here to zone out when the kids run up to yell “Mzungu! How are you?”, because this happens at least 50 times a day. It’s tempting to robotically answer “I’m fine.” and keep walking. Most of the time, they don’t understand anything else. It’s tempting to grow cold to it, to feel like a show, a parade of whiteys walking down the street. The exchange grows repetitive and tiring.
But.
You never know. You never know who you’re walking past. Looking into the childrens’ eyes, you see pain, hurt, war, hunger and a resilience that no child should have to earn. These are babies caring for babies.
“But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.
If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” – James 1:22-27
