Sunday, August 18, 2013

Memories of Mefiboset

A poem I wrote to try and capture some of the memories of my days in Mefiboset where we worked the majority of our time with the kids.

45 minute bus ride.
Crazy traffic.
I don't understand the roads.
Or the road signs.
I'm so glad I'm not driving.
The scenery changes.
Paved roads turn to dirt.
Lots of potholes.
I see a white building next to a plowed field.
Big, blue letters and the familiar Buckner logo.
Welcome to Mefiboset.
Smelly chicken coop.
Set up for VBS begins.
I don't know what to do, where to be.
I sit off to the side and watch.
The kids start showing up.
Beautiful girls and cute little boys.
The sun is shining.
It's hard to play futbol (soccer) on such uneven ground.
The kids start smiling.
They are so open to receiving the love we give them.
I want to be that open.
They listen during story time.
They have fun during crafts.
Allison holds my hand.
Monse wants me to play Candyland with her.
Fernandina calls me Gringa the whole day.
I'm trying to remember all their names.
I wish I could speak Spanish.
Mexicans eat chile powder on everything. Even apple slices.
I don't like chile powder.
They find out that I'm ticklish.
I get tickled by five little kids at once.
They teach me a patty-cake game.
We play it several times every day.
I wish I knew what the rhyme was.
I watch them play from the window upstairs.
I never want to forget the sound of their laughter.
The team paints the inside of the building.
Amazing how much better things look with a coat of paint.
White "freckles" on everyone.
I see the ladies making crafts.
They are so eager and willing to learn.
I want to be like that.
3 year old Lili follows me everywhere now.
She wouldn't talk to me at first. 
Her smile melts my heart.
I love holding her.
I could listen to her talk all day.
I'm glad her mom is able to work with Buckner.
I paint the children's faces in the afternoon. 
They want the designs they see pictured on the box.
One girl comes back to say "I love this" in English.
She points to her face that I just painted.
They all try to use English.
I am blown away by their sweet hearts.
They want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to them.
They are so kind.
I want to be that kind to others.
It's time to leave.
I hate saying goodbye.
The tears won't stop.
I don't want to leave.
We hug each other tightly.
My heart hurts to think I might never see them again.
I climb on the bus and sink into my seat.
My emotions are overwhelming.
I look out the window to see them one more time.
They wave at me.
I smile through the tears.
They chase the bus as we pull away.
I watch them until we are out of sight.
Love is such powerful force.
I hope they know how much I love them.

I still see their faces in my mind. Little kids make me think of them. Sometimes the desire to see them is so strong that I want to book a ticket back to Oaxaca and go find them. I'm so glad that there are people who are still there to help them. That they aren't forgotten. I pray for them often and I would give almost anything to spend one more minute in Mexico just to be able to hug them. I hope I am able go next year and see them again. I'm grateful that God loves them so much more than I ever could and that he used me to help provide for them. I'm very glad that he is taking care of them just like he takes care of me. They changed my life forever and I will always cherish the little handprints that each child left on my heart. 

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