I hardly know what to say anymore - and this from a compulsive writer! It’s just that Africa . . . the dear voices of the children, the strong and true heartbeat of the drums, the full-blown grins of my dark-faced friends, the early-morning call from the mosques, the brilliant flash of swooping birds, the vibrant tangles of trees - they have all become such a part of everyday life. I thrill at them, but I think I often forget there is any world without them. Cornfields and land running straight and hill-less to the horizon seem like something from a dream. I am in Africa, and nothing else matters.
Today at camp was good because it is always good. I am with children in Africa, and we get to sing songs and invent hilarious games to play - and how could that be anything but incredible? I thank God for this. Jon and I helped our five groups of children put the finishing touches on their songs today. We are planning to hold a program tomorrow afternoon for their parents and relatives, and the kids are understandably excited. Although, I must say, this didn’t exactly make their attention spans at practice any better! Yesterday, Jon brought a small handheld recorder to our sessions, and we taped all of the kids singing their songs - both for the sake of the children and the sake of our memories! You should have seen how intently they listened today when they heard their voices coming across on the tape player. And then how they laughed at themselves! One obvious (and usually out-of-tune) voice would for a moment drown out all else, and the whole group of them would erupt in giggles.
But they are amazingly talented. They have come in a very short three days (we didn’t begin our song writing until Tuesday) from a blank piece of paper to an entire song composed, with harmony and actions - most of which they managed with only the slightest help. And in the midst of all this, we still found time to play our silly games. We’ve made up several since coming here. The freeze game, where Jon plays his guitar and harmonica simultaneously (yeah, wish I could do that . . .) and then when he stops at some undetermined point in the music, the kids all have to freeze. They’re very good at that one. Then there’s the variation of Simon Says, only it’s to music, and no one’s really saying anything. You just have to copy everything the leader does. Jon plays his guitar and harmonica simultaneously to that one too. Or their favorite of all: “Oh ma chey chey!” It’s a chant I learned from Amy in Rwanda who learned it at camp in Alaska, and before that it was in the Dominic Republic. We have no idea what it means, but the kids love it.
Jon prayed tonight during devotions that You bless these children. I second that. He asked that You protect the seeds that have been planted. Yes, protect and grow, dear God. Amen! They call the children of Africa the forgotten children - the lost children - the abandoned children. They are some of the neediest, hungriest, poorest kids in all the world. But I’ve seen these children, God, and they’re just kids. Just like the kids in America - just like kids anywhere - all they need - okay, besides food and clothes and clean water and stuff like that - they just need to be loved. To know that someone cares very specially for them.
I thank You for bringing me here.
