This is my little Mercy.
Part of our ministry in Kampala, Uganda included holding a kids camp
for the children of police. Being a police man in Uganda is
not like being a police man here-- it is not a respected position.
The police of Uganda live in shacks thrown together from scraps
of metal and whatever other material is available...
I will never forget two little girls who were sisters.
Bricsla and Mercy.
Bricsla befriended me first and through that I gained the
trust of her little shy sister, Mercy.
Mercy would always catch my eye and smile at me when
we were dancing to worship songs. I will never forget how her
little belly pooched out (from hunger, no doubt) and how
she tried to mimic every move I made when we danced together.
Both of them were brilliant and a little on the shy side.
Each night food would be provided for the kids and the camp
workers and each night the girls ate a couple
bites and put the rest in a plastic bag to take home for their family.
One night I caught on and asked them if they took the food to
their family. They looked so afraid as if they were in trouble
and muttered "yes". Then I handed them my plate.
Their faces lit up with relief, "thank you TEE-CHA Abby."
I will never forget the way they would call me teacher.
//
To have the responsibility to provide food for your family
at the age of thirteen and six is something that is hard to imagine.
Despite the weight these girls carried on their shoulders every day
they had the most beautiful passion for life, school and friendships.
I had the privilege of meeting their family and spending some time
in their home with them. One small room with a curtain for a
door is the place where a family of ten has to sleep.
I know these girls will be influencers for Jesus and for change
in their nation. I know one day we will dance together again.
Part of our ministry in Kampala, Uganda included holding a kids camp
for the children of police. Being a police man in Uganda is
not like being a police man here-- it is not a respected position.
The police of Uganda live in shacks thrown together from scraps
of metal and whatever other material is available...
I will never forget two little girls who were sisters.
Bricsla and Mercy.
Bricsla befriended me first and through that I gained the
trust of her little shy sister, Mercy.
Mercy would always catch my eye and smile at me when
we were dancing to worship songs. I will never forget how her
little belly pooched out (from hunger, no doubt) and how
she tried to mimic every move I made when we danced together.
Both of them were brilliant and a little on the shy side.
Each night food would be provided for the kids and the camp
workers and each night the girls ate a couple
bites and put the rest in a plastic bag to take home for their family.
One night I caught on and asked them if they took the food to
their family. They looked so afraid as if they were in trouble
and muttered "yes". Then I handed them my plate.
Their faces lit up with relief, "thank you TEE-CHA Abby."
I will never forget the way they would call me teacher.
//
To have the responsibility to provide food for your family
at the age of thirteen and six is something that is hard to imagine.
Despite the weight these girls carried on their shoulders every day
they had the most beautiful passion for life, school and friendships.
I had the privilege of meeting their family and spending some time
in their home with them. One small room with a curtain for a
door is the place where a family of ten has to sleep.
I know these girls will be influencers for Jesus and for change
in their nation. I know one day we will dance together again.
:) great work Abby, your heart shines through your writing.
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