It's My Life - Melody Carlson [25]
But I'm so ashamed that I really did not want to touch them, or for them to touch me. And it makes me feel like a selfish creep. Fortunately, Beanie handled it much better than I did. She's so amazing. She got right down on their level and talked to them, and even touched them. But I just stood there like a pillar of ice. I just did not want to touch them. (Oh, forgive me, God!) And even as I'm writing this I can't stop crying. Everyone here thinks I'm totally losing it today. And maybe I am. I didn't go to dinner. I mean, how can I possibly eat when there are little kids literally starving out there tonight? I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat again!
And while I'm confessing about what a complete wimp and a creep I am, as soon as we got back, I had to go take a shower. I felt so unclean from just seeing those children. And then I just never wanted to come out of the shower. And as hard as I scrubbed, I felt like I'd never be clean again–ever! Oh, I just don't know what's wrong with me. And I don't know if I'll be able to take this for nine more days. Oh, why did I ever come to this horrible place?
OH, GOD, PLEASE, PLEASE HELP ME! AM UNABLE TO DO THIS. I FEEL MY HEART IS BROKEN. OH, WHY DO YOU ALLOW SUCH SADNESS IN THIS WORLD? AND WHY DID I HAVE TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT NOW? PLEASE HELP ME OR I WON'T BE ABLE TO DO THIS.
Friday, August 17 (I survived another day)
At breakfast today (yes, I was actually able to eat again), I just looked around at all these kids (my friends), and I couldn't understand how they could laugh and smile like there weren't these little kids starving just miles away. And I tried to act like I wasn't hurting inside, but let me tell you, I was. And I am. I don't think I'll ever get over this. I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of tears.
But I suppose it helped to be working back in the compound preschool today. These kids are clean because they get bathed daily. In fact, today, Beanie and I got to help with that. And I didn't mind touching these kids at all. It was even kind of fun to wash their dark curly hair. And I didn't even mind doing a lice check (okay, it bugged me a little at first), but we didn't find a single nit. (That's what the eggs are called that get attached to their hair.) Anyway, these kids wear fairly nice clothes that are donated from American churches and laundered here on the compound regularly. (You should see their laundry facility, really state of the art, thanks to a generous church in Columbus, Ohio.) These kids seem really happy and healthy despite the sad lot life seems to have dealt them. In fact, as we went around the compound today, I couldn't help but notice how everyone here seems to be really and truly happy. Everyone but me, that is.
My philosophical friend (Beanie) says it's all relative. That the people being helped by the mission may seem poor by our standards, but they remember how life used to be much worse for them and they appreciate every little thing they've got now. I suppose she should know since, in some ways, she's had a pretty hard life too. I think she probably felt like an orphan quite a bit while she was growing up (even though she had a mom and a home). Then I asked her what she thought about the garbage dump kids. She got kind of quiet, then said she felt bad for them. I knew I wouldn't be able to say how I felt without breaking into tears, so I just kept it to myself, but I know she understands because she reached over and gave me a hug.
And even though I'm doing better today, I just couldn't bring myself to go to the sing-along tonight. After dinner, I asked Beanie and Zach to tell Greg that I wasn't feeling well (which isn't untrue) and then I slipped back to our room, which is hotter than Hades tonight. But I don't really care. Tonight I'm going to do nothing but pray for those garbage dump kids. It's the only thing I know how to do at the moment. And