More than a Sparrow

I wished we could take her up the hill this Sunday, but the stimulation would be overwhelming. Abby giggled and squealed when spun around, her eyes open but not seeing. A thick film was over them, making her pupil a large, cloudy gray shape in the background - she is legally blind. The other children were quietly playing, so this was her time to shine. The less noise around her, the better – the less anxious she became and the more she could express herself.

“She's really improved,” they had told us.

She used to sit long periods and bang her head against the wall. Now four years old, she was the oldest child in Suubi Babies home. When she was only an infant, she had been found in the bottom of a latrine, and when workers had retrieved her, maggots had already eaten her eyes.

It is rare to go to church here without a baby. Most of the volunteers take a little one with them, have them dressed up in Sunday best, grab the diaper bag with snacks and essentials, and trek the 20 minute climb up Suubi hill. It adds another element to a service, when a child is sitting on your lap with a decent set of markers and no paper, another is grabbing onto the chairs in front – so excited that, despite his neuromuscular disease, he has just began to walk, another is getting hungry and making the most out of his millet cracker (making sure we get the most from it, as well).

Anika and Conner

I looked to my right and spotted my young friend from Friday night. She had written me a note on Saturday, asking if I would come see her. Since her house is right across from my housing, I had walked through the gates and over to her steps, finding that she had gone up to “House 35”.

As I continued up the hill, I stopped at house 34.

“Is Kyra (name changed) here,” I had asked a boy going in the door

“Yes.”

I had gone inside, and been greeted by the entire family, who immediately stopped what they were doing, to visit. After chatting for a while, I looked around noticing my young friend was not to be seen.

“Kyra is here?” I asked again.

The reply was still the same. I kept talking until I realized that most definitely, Kyra was not here.

“So...Kyra is not here?” I tried to reword it. “I am looking for Kyra...”

Somehow, the realization transmitted and I communicated that I was sorry to go, but I had been looking for someone.

On leaving the home, the house mother told me to please come back. Having seen one of the boys who was earlier receiving treatment, I inquired.

“Was he at the clinic?”

“Yes...Yes, and,..” she gestured down to the kidney region. It dawned on me that I had walked into the house of the boy who needed a transplant.

“And they found a donor!” She quickly added. “We will be going to India!”

God allowed me to step in the wrong house and visit, showing me the individual care for each of his own.

Back in the church building, Kyra perched next to the other volunteers, a big smile on her face. The room was crowded...very crowded, as the services that morning had been combined for a Christmas play that the Sunday school children put on. At times, it was difficult to hear, for all the young ones present. However, though the distraction and beyond the noise I was reminded how God loves each and every child so individually. He cares about Abby's eyes and helped Conner take his first steps. He led me to find how he cared about the little boys kidneys and Kyra's smile said enough.

“What is the price of two sparrows--one copper coin? But not a single sparrow can fall to the ground without your Father knowing it. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Matthew 10:29-31