Where to begin? The last week we were in Africa, Ruthie and I worked the kid’s program at Brackenhurst. The closest equivalent we have in the states to what Brackenhurst is would be a church retreat campground. The grounds are beautiful and the cabins are all unique.
We arrived Sunday afternoon early to eat lunch and attend a workers’ meeting. The meeting ended up being a time to divide the kids by age group (on paper) and then move all the trunks and equipment to entertain the kiddos into their proper places.
Around 4 pm, we had our first encounter with the kids we would be working with all week. The infant/toddler group ended up being 8-9 in size. There was a variety of ages from 1-4 years. One helpful aspect of the week was that the High School Juniors and Seniors were rotated throughout the sessions to help me and the other college worker.
Although it might seem inconvenient to give up one whole week of our break to help watch kids, it was one of the best experiences I could have ever had. I met so many new friends, became close to the high schooler workers, and was embraced by the family comprised of the M’s.
Because it has been nearly 2 weeks since the week at Brackenhurst started, I will only provide a summary of everything that occurred while there. (The next several blog entries will be separated by topic.)
1. Kids. Let me introduce you to our little bunch.
The youngest was Riley and his sister was Alana (2 years). Riley was the happiest little boy I’ve ever been around. The only time he cried the entire week was the morning after he hadn’t slept much and when a trunk lid closed on his hand. However, the second time, it wasn’t really even a cry; more like a whimper. Alana was miss little independent. She had a mind of her own and could turn from glaring with an angry face to smiles and giggles in 0.247 seconds. Although she was 2 years, she still couldn’t communicate well with words, so we constantly were guessing what she wanted, didn’t like, etc. Her most obvious trait was the need to climb. When at the playground, she would just book it up the hills and the next thing we knew she was three levels up near the cabins perfectly happy with herself for her accomplishment.
Then we had Madeline (3 years) and Charlie (2 years) with the occasional visit by little sister Millie (3 months). Madeline was a cheerful girl who could completely entertain herself. She played well with or without other kids around. She loved playing in the sand/dirt and with the balloons. She was constantly tromping around with her bucket and shovel :) Her brother, on the other hand, was a little more difficult. He had separation problems, so at least one parent was always nearby. He was a sweet guy, just quite needy. One of our high school workers, Reed, became his buddy. If Charlie ever needed some attention, Reed was there to give it. He loved the lap harp (which he called a ‘tar trying to say guitar, so cute). And Millie, well, she just smiled and cooed and slept :)
The two princesses were Sienna and Tia, both 3 years. They were cute little curly blond-headed girls who always wore pink and loved playing princess and castle. Miss Criscilla (Priscilla, but they couldn’t say her name) really took to them. They would make tiaras and play princesses. It was quite fun to watch. Whenever we went outside, we made the kids wear sunscreen ‘cause of the high altitude and being near the equator they burned easily. However, none of them liked it…I have never before realized how much little kids hate sunscreen. It was a huge chore to get them to wear it. Anyways, so Priscilla came up with this idea to call the sunscreen “princess lotion,” selling the girls on the idea that they could shimmer in the sun like royalty (um…bring to mind any Twilight images?). It only kind of worked, but it made for an on-going lifelong joke between Priscilla and me.
Daphne. If you knew her, that name alone would be explanation enough. But since you don’t, let me enlighten you. Daphne was 2 years old, but she could communicate with words quite well. Every day we would wait to see if Daphne showed up…she was the difference between and easy day and a hard one. Our most difficult kid, she would cry for mommy and daddy off and on all day. She didn’t play well with others although she was decent with playing by herself. The routine went something like this: 1) Daphne happy until [fill in the blank]. 2) Cries. 3) Pick Daphne up. 4) Try to distract Daphne with baby doll. 5) Daphne throws whatever you hand her including cookies (she threw them so hard it shattered into pieces when it hit the floor). 5) She would scream for “mommy!” and “juice.” 6.) She would eventually become distracted. 7.) Stop crying. 8.) Repeat throughout day about 12 times. Really, though, she was a dear little girl too. Just needed some extra TLC and patience on our part.
And last, but not least, Josiah and Benjamin. These two were truly our boys – in every sense of the word. They loved beating up on the guy workers, although they didn’t really take to the girls at all. Because they were 4 years old, they were pretty tough and had an awesome time getting tackled for hours on end in the bounce-house boxing ring (our poor guy workers were exhausted by the end of the days). They also made forts and shot missiles and played soccer and ate twice as much as the other kids at tea time :) One funny story with them was that one day when they were playing fort the girls wanted to join. But the boys wouldn’t let them be captains with them. They said the girls could only play if they were cats. So, the girls played cats in the fort. Haha! One of the high school workers (Caleb) commented that he wished he could know what was going on in their heads. Since when are cats the next most logical thing to become after captains?
So there you have it; these were the kids we worked with. Our team of workers was amazing as well. We had M families from all over East Africa – Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda, Uganda, Tanzania, Madagascar. Some of the kids spoke Swahili, some spoke French, some spoke English, some didn’t speak at all yet :) They all are growing up experiencing more of the world than most others. They endure sweltering deserts, strange customs, violent religious intolerance, and they all carry the heartache to reach the people they’re sharing life with for Jesus.
I can’t express the amount of respect I have gained for our mission overseas. These men and women sent by the AG have sacrificed convenience and ease, placed their families in extremely difficult and sometimes dangerous situations, and are making an eternal difference. And I am proud and honored to have observed and shared a small part of their lives during the week at Brackenhurst and to be able to call them all friend.
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