Serving Those Who Serve.

The other day, my mom and I decided to have a little mother-daughter bonding and go get pedicures together. As the lady laughed at how rough my heels were and tried desperately to scrub the red dirt stain from my feet, I was reminded of a certain day in Dwaleni.

Every Wednesday, I would go to the local clinic in Dwaleni with Kacy and some of the other volunteers, where we would bring tea and dessert to an amazing group of ladies who are reffered to as "The Sizanani Ladies". They started as 16 ladies, but are now down to only 6.

Sizanani, translated into English means 'to help one another', which is exactly what these ladies have dedicated their lives to doing. When they aren't busy preparing, cooking and serving food at the local feeding program in their community, they can be found throughout the community caring for the sick and home bound who, otherwise, would go unseen. These selfless ladies go above and beyond to help those in need with little or no income at all. Because that's what they've been called to do.

One Wednesday, we had an extra special surprise for our ladies. We came prepared with foot scrub, lotion and nail polish and we humbly washed each of the ladies of the Sizanani Home Based Care's feet right there in the small house that they ran their ministry out of. These ladies are true disciples of Christ, doing His work each and everyday. What better way to give back to them, then to wash their feet just as Jesus washed his Disciples feet.

The Sizanani Ladies we're tickled. (Literally and figuratively speaking.) They are so used to caring for others with nothing in return, that it almost seemed as though they didn't know how to properly respond, when having others care for them. They were so appreciative... and even more so, deserving.

John 13:14-17 "Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet. I have set for you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them."

Siyabonga's Story.

Remember this guy?

Sweet Siyabonga. The perfect face that melted my heart during my last visit to South Africa.

Several posts back, I talked about how I went out and bought him a new wardrobe for $20. After that small purchase, I was talking to a friend about my plans to send him some clothes, but that I hadn't been able to find any warm clothes for him, since our seasons are reversed and it was hard to find winter clothes during our summer season. Coincidentally (or not so coincidentally), my friend had a carload of her little brothers old clothes that she was going to donate to a thrift store. She took me to her car and in her trunk were trash bags full of Siyabonga-sized winter clothes. I'm talking hoodies, blue jeans, dress pants and even a suit coat. All of which seemed to be the perfect fit. I remember us looking at each other with huge smiles on our faces and her saying, "This has to be a God thing!"

And it was.

I packaged up the clothes, along with some photos of us that I had taken during my first visit to South Africa and a letter written in his language, with the help of a friend's translating skills.

Is he not the most handsome thing you've ever seen? I can't handle it. He's perfect.

This year, I got to see Siyabonga every Wednesday at one of the feeding programs that I volunteered at.  We got to spend a lot of time together, playing, dancing and laughing. He got to be a kid. He got to receive undivided attention. He got to know what it felt like to be loved. In his community, it isn't common to receive that kind of affection, and it showed. It took a while for him to get used to all of the attention he was getting. I could see the overwhelmed look on his face the first day that I saw him and ran up to him to hug him. It was almost like he didn't know how to be loved.

But don't worry, he warmed up quick and hardly ever left my side.

The last Wednesday of my trip, which also happened to be my birthday, was the only feeding day out of the whole two months that I was there that Siyabonga did not show to. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to this little boy that i'd spent one day a week, slowly getting to know and gaining trust from. 

UNTIL...

One day we went into his community to pick up two other twin boys to take them to the closest city to celebrate their 15th birthday at McDonald's. When the boys were asked if they knew where Siyabonga lived, they said that they did and agreed to show us his house. On the way to his house, we drove past a field where I spotted Siyabonga playing soccer with a friend. You can probably imagine my excitement.

We got out and asked Siyabonga to take us to his mom so that we could ask her if it would be alright if he came with us for the birthday celebration. Whether she understood the conversation or not is beside the point. She let him come with us, after her first time meeting me. She trusted me with her son. I thanked her for allowing him to come and told her that he was very special.

Here in America, McDonald's is not hard to come by. There is almost one on every street corner. But to a little boy who has probably never been out of his community, much less even know what a Happy Meal is, that day at McDonald's could have very well been the best day of his life. And knowing that I got to make that happen for him, pretty much made it one of the best days of mine, as well.

The relationship I built with this boy is one that I cherish dearly. I noticed him in a crowd of children. I responded by sending him clothes and a friendly letter. I stayed true to my word and came back like I had said I would. I showed him that he is special and addressed it to his mother so that she might show him, too. I changed this boy's life through french fries and an Oreo McFlurry. Something so simple that so many of us take for granted. And seeing the joy that I was able to bring to him was way better than any belated birthday present I could have asked for.

Wordless Wednesday.

Cry of the Hungry.

Meet sweet baby, Given.

He may look pathetic, and let's be honest... it's because he is.

But look at THAT FACE.

Given is two years old. He has a twin brother named Kevin, an older sister named Charity and a baby sister named Carabo. Their mom is 22 years old, and expecting another baby. 

During my trip, I spent a lot of time with Given's family. On Sunday's after church, their whole family would come over to the base that I was living at for Sunday lunch on the lawn. We'd go to their house to help bathe and dress them before church. We'd stop by just to share oranges and cookies. We'd spend time together as a family. Because really, they are family. I cared for them and loved them as if they were my own.

One Sunday at church, I had Given in my lap and his twin brother was sleeping in my friends lap, which is usually what he did the majority of the time. Sweet, lethargic baby. Given just kept squirming and whining, looking up at me with those sad, sad eyes. He wiggled his way down to the floor, turned and looked at me and just started crying the most pathetic cry ever. So, I took him outside to try and calm him down. We sat down on a bench, next to a half eaten banana that he desperately grabbed at. I picked the banana up and handed it to him and he scarfed it down. [Don't judge; poor baby was starving]. After eating his snack made from sloppy seconds, the tears dried up and we went back inside the church.

Who knows how long this sweet boy had gone without eating. He had gotten to the point where he couldn't hold his hunger pains in any longer. Thank you Jesus for someones leftovers filling that babies tummy long enough to make it to Sunday Lunch.

This situation, to me, is a great example of the struggle that is unseen. The pain and hunger that is unseen. The empty tummy's that are unseen. The sorrow that is unseen.

The people inside of that church did not see this baby's pain. They did not know the amount of emptiness in that tummy. They did not see the half eaten banana that I fed him, just to settle his stomach for long enough to get him through the rest of church. After the pain, emptiness and sadness was temporarily relieved, we returned to our seats as if nothing had happened. As if everything was okay. When in reality, it's not okay. It's not okay for these babies to be hungry. If by posting this blog, i'm bringing awareness of one, tiny empty tummy, i'm doing for one what I wish I could do for many. 

I invite you to open your eyes so that you can become more aware of what is going on around you. To become aware of those struggling to survive. Open your hearts to love those who have never felt loved. Open your hands to feed and care for those who have nothing. 

Become AWARE. 

The Blog Is Back.

After returning from a two month trip to South Africa this past week, I realized that it has been almost ONE YEAR since I have posted. I really just left everyone hanging, didn't I? I think that after graduating from nursing school and starting my new career, I got so caught up in the rush of the everyday American lifestyle, and my responsibility of caring for those here in America, that I somehow disconnected myself from something just as, if not more important to me: bringing what awareness that I, myself, can bring of what is going on in the communities of South Africa, my home away from home.

 I can't seem to force myself to post many photos of my trip on Facebook, because each photo has a personal story behind it. Each photo has an explanation greater than any photo caption can describe. I don't want people seeing photos without descriptions and not knowing their whole story and just simply thinking "Awww, look at that cute little black baby!" These babies have names. These babies have stories. And these babies are my family.

 So, let's get this blog back up and running! These people need to be known.

Wordless Wednesday.

BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER.

I'm in LOVE.