Allow me to paint a picture for you:
The road before you is rocky. The dirt is thick. At 8 years old you walk at dusk, holding the hand of your little brother. You know this path well. This happens often--you leading him along the avenues through your neighborhood. Even though you do this all the time, that familiar fear still consumes you. He's not walking fast enough, but then again, he never does. You drag him along quickly, and your heart begins to heavily pound. Your mind starts racing, "I thought I had more time this afternoon. I wish auntie hadn't asked me to get the water so late again. Why does the sun have to set so quickly?" You quicken your pace. Still a mile left to go. You round the corner as darkness floods the street. The recognizable sound of loud rap music coming from the tavern reminds you of that dreadful night 3 months ago. The vision fills your mind and your pace rapidly increases. Those drunk men whispering in your ear to come with them. That they would treat you real nice. That you would be safe in their house. As you pass the tavern, there is no men tonight, but you picture them sitting at the porch, as they did 3 months ago. You remember the smell of beer on their breath. You hear their promise of money if you just came inside the bar. You remember that large, damp hand on your back, under your shirt, as one tried to pull you toward him. Your strength is nothing compared to these men.
As you are pulled into the bar, one of the men sit you on the chair, and places your bucket of water on the table. His hand touches your knee and you immediately feel that something is wrong. As he looks back laughing at his friend, you take your chance. You push the water bucket at him and he stumbles back, in a drunken stupor. The water spills on the floor, you grab the bucket, knowing you will be whipped if you go home empty handed, and you run. Tonight, as you relive the events that took place, you thank the Lord that your brother wasn't with you that night. How would you have gotten home safely with him dragging on like he is now? Night settles in and you see your neighbor coming out of the outhouse after bathing. Seeing her wrapped in her towel reminds you of your auntie's reaction when you came home with only the bucket and no water. You picture her standing at the door screaming at you for spilling the water. You watch as she gives your portion of dinner to your cousins manipulating you into believing that your clumsiness is the result of no meal that day. The more you try to explain, the louder she gets. "HOW are we supposed to bathe now? You wait til your uncle gets home you little brat. He will surely have something to say about THIS." As she strikes you across your face, whips you on your back and kicks you out the door, all you manage to think is, "At least it was only a few hits tonight." When she hears your 1 minute version of the event, she responds by saying those men were only joking. They weren't going to hurt you. You are stupid for feeling fearful. Who would care about you anyway? You focus in on the present to stop your mind from reliving the abuse you received from your uncle that night.
When you get home, dinner is finished and your portion has been eaten. Your auntie explains, as she does many nights, "If you only got home sooner, you could have eaten. It's your fault that you didn't walk fast enough." You don't respond because you know that your words won't mean anything. That night, you sleep with your brother in your lap, leaning against the wall of your living room. The room is no bigger than the bathroom outside and the cold of the night settles in. With no mattress, no blanket, and no pillow, you bring your little brother close to hopefully create some body heat. You fall to sleep, only to wake up screaming. Another nightmare. This time it felt real though. You actually felt the flames as you watched your mother die. Today is Saturday morning. You are sitting outside washing clothes, when you see 2 of your neighborhood friends pass by with new, bright, red t-shirts. You can't abandon your chores, so you keep washing. Around 12 hrs, you run to find your friends. You ask them about the red shirts. They say it's from a place called Camp LIFE. You don't understand but you wish you could see such a place. When you reach home, your auntie says to go look in the trash pile for an old bottle to use for a candle. While you are walking on the trash, you hear someone call out behind you. When you turn, your two friends are standing with an older lady. She asks you what your name is. She asks you to come to a building called, "Lifeway Christian Academy." The lady follows you to your house. You hand auntie the bottle, and the lady talks to her for some time. She asks the auntie if you can come this afternoon. You know that she never cares what you do or where you are as long as you bring home water, and do your chores. So a few hours later, you leave the house. You set off for this building. As you get closer, you hear voices of other children like you. You can't help but wonder where you are going. You see a crowd of children up ahead. At first you are nervous to come, but some of them have the red shirts on, so you feel safe. When you get closer, that same lady sees you. She waves and smiles. You smile back. Your heart starts to feel warm--a feeling you never experience. She calls out your name and you raise your hand. You come closer and she puts a strip of paper around your wrist. It says something, but you can't read. She tells you to come back to this place on Monday morning at 7 hours. You hear her say that you will be going to "Camp LIFE."
As you walk back, something inside of you has hope. Monday morning comes and you meet another lady from America. For the next 5 days, you soak in everything you can. She tells you that there is a God and that he loves you. She teaches you about the armor of God, and that it can withstand anything. She tells you that no matter what the devil, your enemy, tries to throw at you, God will protect you. You tell her about that terrible night. About your aunt. About your uncle. About going without dinner. About the nightmares. About your little brother. About your parents dying. About you sleeping on a mat. About being cold at night. You tell her everything that makes you sad. And she prays. Boy does she pray. With all her heart she cries for you. For you. NO ONE has ever cried for you before. She hugs you. She puts you in her lap. She wraps her arms around you. For the first time in your life, you feel loved. You feel warm. For the first time, you feel human touch that isn't abuse. You love your new friend. You get a picture with her and you bring it home and tuck it in a safe place. On Friday, you receive your very own red shirt. You wear it home with pride. As the next day comes, and the next and the next, your normal routine begins again. But this time, it's different. When your aunt tries to hit you, you whisper a prayer and she stops. When your uncle tries to come at you with all his might, you whisper to the Lord for help, and he stops. The lady with the strip of paper begins to visit you. She enrolls you in the "Lifeway Christian Academy", which you find out is a school. You've never been to a school before! You start learning more about Jesus. You start hearing and even speaking English. You see your teacher every day and she really cares about you. A few weeks later, after fetching water, you walk home with your little brother singing the songs from camp. A smile crosses your face.
For the first time in your life, each day is worth living.
The road before you is rocky. The dirt is thick. At 8 years old you walk at dusk, holding the hand of your little brother. You know this path well. This happens often--you leading him along the avenues through your neighborhood. Even though you do this all the time, that familiar fear still consumes you. He's not walking fast enough, but then again, he never does. You drag him along quickly, and your heart begins to heavily pound. Your mind starts racing, "I thought I had more time this afternoon. I wish auntie hadn't asked me to get the water so late again. Why does the sun have to set so quickly?" You quicken your pace. Still a mile left to go. You round the corner as darkness floods the street. The recognizable sound of loud rap music coming from the tavern reminds you of that dreadful night 3 months ago. The vision fills your mind and your pace rapidly increases. Those drunk men whispering in your ear to come with them. That they would treat you real nice. That you would be safe in their house. As you pass the tavern, there is no men tonight, but you picture them sitting at the porch, as they did 3 months ago. You remember the smell of beer on their breath. You hear their promise of money if you just came inside the bar. You remember that large, damp hand on your back, under your shirt, as one tried to pull you toward him. Your strength is nothing compared to these men.
As you are pulled into the bar, one of the men sit you on the chair, and places your bucket of water on the table. His hand touches your knee and you immediately feel that something is wrong. As he looks back laughing at his friend, you take your chance. You push the water bucket at him and he stumbles back, in a drunken stupor. The water spills on the floor, you grab the bucket, knowing you will be whipped if you go home empty handed, and you run. Tonight, as you relive the events that took place, you thank the Lord that your brother wasn't with you that night. How would you have gotten home safely with him dragging on like he is now? Night settles in and you see your neighbor coming out of the outhouse after bathing. Seeing her wrapped in her towel reminds you of your auntie's reaction when you came home with only the bucket and no water. You picture her standing at the door screaming at you for spilling the water. You watch as she gives your portion of dinner to your cousins manipulating you into believing that your clumsiness is the result of no meal that day. The more you try to explain, the louder she gets. "HOW are we supposed to bathe now? You wait til your uncle gets home you little brat. He will surely have something to say about THIS." As she strikes you across your face, whips you on your back and kicks you out the door, all you manage to think is, "At least it was only a few hits tonight." When she hears your 1 minute version of the event, she responds by saying those men were only joking. They weren't going to hurt you. You are stupid for feeling fearful. Who would care about you anyway? You focus in on the present to stop your mind from reliving the abuse you received from your uncle that night.
When you get home, dinner is finished and your portion has been eaten. Your auntie explains, as she does many nights, "If you only got home sooner, you could have eaten. It's your fault that you didn't walk fast enough." You don't respond because you know that your words won't mean anything. That night, you sleep with your brother in your lap, leaning against the wall of your living room. The room is no bigger than the bathroom outside and the cold of the night settles in. With no mattress, no blanket, and no pillow, you bring your little brother close to hopefully create some body heat. You fall to sleep, only to wake up screaming. Another nightmare. This time it felt real though. You actually felt the flames as you watched your mother die. Today is Saturday morning. You are sitting outside washing clothes, when you see 2 of your neighborhood friends pass by with new, bright, red t-shirts. You can't abandon your chores, so you keep washing. Around 12 hrs, you run to find your friends. You ask them about the red shirts. They say it's from a place called Camp LIFE. You don't understand but you wish you could see such a place. When you reach home, your auntie says to go look in the trash pile for an old bottle to use for a candle. While you are walking on the trash, you hear someone call out behind you. When you turn, your two friends are standing with an older lady. She asks you what your name is. She asks you to come to a building called, "Lifeway Christian Academy." The lady follows you to your house. You hand auntie the bottle, and the lady talks to her for some time. She asks the auntie if you can come this afternoon. You know that she never cares what you do or where you are as long as you bring home water, and do your chores. So a few hours later, you leave the house. You set off for this building. As you get closer, you hear voices of other children like you. You can't help but wonder where you are going. You see a crowd of children up ahead. At first you are nervous to come, but some of them have the red shirts on, so you feel safe. When you get closer, that same lady sees you. She waves and smiles. You smile back. Your heart starts to feel warm--a feeling you never experience. She calls out your name and you raise your hand. You come closer and she puts a strip of paper around your wrist. It says something, but you can't read. She tells you to come back to this place on Monday morning at 7 hours. You hear her say that you will be going to "Camp LIFE."
As you walk back, something inside of you has hope. Monday morning comes and you meet another lady from America. For the next 5 days, you soak in everything you can. She tells you that there is a God and that he loves you. She teaches you about the armor of God, and that it can withstand anything. She tells you that no matter what the devil, your enemy, tries to throw at you, God will protect you. You tell her about that terrible night. About your aunt. About your uncle. About going without dinner. About the nightmares. About your little brother. About your parents dying. About you sleeping on a mat. About being cold at night. You tell her everything that makes you sad. And she prays. Boy does she pray. With all her heart she cries for you. For you. NO ONE has ever cried for you before. She hugs you. She puts you in her lap. She wraps her arms around you. For the first time in your life, you feel loved. You feel warm. For the first time, you feel human touch that isn't abuse. You love your new friend. You get a picture with her and you bring it home and tuck it in a safe place. On Friday, you receive your very own red shirt. You wear it home with pride. As the next day comes, and the next and the next, your normal routine begins again. But this time, it's different. When your aunt tries to hit you, you whisper a prayer and she stops. When your uncle tries to come at you with all his might, you whisper to the Lord for help, and he stops. The lady with the strip of paper begins to visit you. She enrolls you in the "Lifeway Christian Academy", which you find out is a school. You've never been to a school before! You start learning more about Jesus. You start hearing and even speaking English. You see your teacher every day and she really cares about you. A few weeks later, after fetching water, you walk home with your little brother singing the songs from camp. A smile crosses your face.
For the first time in your life, each day is worth living.
That was...life changing.
ReplyDeleteThis is amazing Megan- I might steal this, but I will give you credit ;)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing. And caring.
ReplyDelete