Today was our last day of camp at Nabinoonya. We woke early and tired after last night - but You have blessed us with good health and rest, and we are grateful. This morning just before lunch You granted us sunshine and a nice little breeze that made perfect weather for the treasure hunt we had planned. Molly, Candice, Jon, and I scurried about for half an hour, hiding clues and double checking map coordinates, while the others distracted the kids (I think they were doing some art project). We very nearly lost a clue to an over-zealous camp worker, but after some rather worried searching, we recovered it. Then we lined up all the kids (they had no idea what was coming) and announced our surprise. Their faces pulsed excitement like the beat of their drums, but they listened very intently, albeit fidgeting, while I explained the rules. But the moment I passed the teams their map and first clue, the silence was gone!
As the “genius mastermind” (note: this title may be debatable) behind the idea, it was my solemn duty to dart aimlessly about the camp, trying to be in the right place at the right time to help whatever team was presently in a quandary utterly beyond their skill. I also got to take pictures. Which was a bit difficult in the midst of all that running and laughing and shouting exhortations and giving out hints without being too obvious or too vague. But I did manage a few snapshots - some of them even made it to the camera; the rest are in my mind:
. . . The frenzied way they’d dash from clue to clue, some in each team inevitably lagging behind, panting, but all laughing . . .
The boys leaping on top of the stone elephant (wild and potentially dangerous according to the clue!) . . .
Inside the hut next to the lake, a little girl, in dire straights to find a quality she was thankful for for the little boy sitting next to her, finally blurting out, “I thank God for you . . . because you are handsome” . . .
The girls on the yellow team stretching their arms to the utmost (you could tell by the happy little grimaces they were making) to complete the circle and hug one of the round huts that serve as cabins . . .
. . . The grimaces on the faces of the girls when, for the human pyramid, the boys made them make the first row, so they could climb up on the second! I don’t think they’d ever actually made a human pyramid before . . .
Another team down amongst the grand trees, singing, “Jesus is my King.” (Remember the hated theme song?) I wasn’t anywhere near them, but I heard their voices from across camp . . .
The teams, one and all, launching themselves off the wall, arms flailing, mouths wide open (Because, really, why would you jump off a wall without your mouth wide open?).
Dear God, it was truly marvelous.
After the grand finish of the best scavenger hunt ever (we gave everyone suckers), we enjoyed another delicious lunch of rice and some sort of stew. Although, I do have to admit, the meat was a little iffy. When it takes more than five minutes to chew it, you start wondering . . . At 2:30, we attended a rather long awards ceremony for the academic semester, since, after all, this was a school of children we had camp with. It was quite interesting to hear some of the awards they gave out though. There were the standard, “Best Student in Math,” “Most Improved,” “Best Athlete.” That sort of thing. Then came the “Cleanliness Award.” We decided it was because when you’re working with a school of children who are coming out of, really, very poor homes, you can’t take cleanliness as a guaranteed habit. As the ceremony drew to a close, they invited us all up so we could tell each other thank you for the incredible week at camp. To express their gratitude, the entire group of children sang “Friends Are Friends Forever.” Nothing against Michael W. Smith, but I’d rather hear the African kids sing that song than him any day. Every day of camp, they would start the morning with devotions that included singing. The treasure of hearing truly gifted children join their sweet, clear voices together in sincere worship moved me every time. I do not think I can ever forget the music those children made as they sang in such angelic, effortless harmony.
At the close of the ceremony (and time for us to say goodbye), the entire crowd of children rushed on stage and overwhelmed us with hugs. They are such little darlings. There was one little boy (I think he had been one of the naughtier ones in our music sessions) who was counting the number of hugs he could give Uncle Jon. “One,” he started, then let a few other kids in line have a turn before he snuck back in and counted, “Two . . . three . . .” and so on. Oh, how we will miss them!
We said goodbye to the Brits (though not for the last time!), abandoned our peaceful nunnery, and, with bags packed yet again and hearts running over, returned to Adonai Guest House in Kampala. I am writing this from “home sweet home,” but I think the silence, though restful, is also a bit sad. Our camps are over, it is hard to believe! It seems years ago, and yet only a handful of days, that I left the States. You, Father, have filled my heart with such joy, such love, such dreams, such hope, such gratefulness. I praise You. I told the children today that my favorite thing at camp was their smiles. I love to see them smile, and I thank You, Jesus, for the multitude of grins You have sent my way.
I pray for the children, Lord. I thank You for their dear hearts before You and Your overflowing heart for them. Father God, carry Your children. Wrap them up in Your arms, hold them as the apple of Your eyes, guard them in the shadow of Your wings, keep them close to Your heart every day of their lives. They go tomorrow to their homes for a three-week holiday before returning to school for the next semester. Some of their home situations are not good, and my heart bleeds for the things these children must face. Immanuel, God with us, pour out Your love upon Your children. Amen.
