So how do you write when you want to speak with everyone at once? All of those great people that have been part of my life and helped shape who I have become? And how are you to write when you feel that you are the happiest you've ever been and yet at your worst - unable to understand your own feelings, lonlier than one could ever imagine, and crying through the days without knowning what exacting you're crying about because there are so many different reasons why you could/should be crying.
So much has happened in the last few days I do not know where to begin. And though at this moment I find it more valuable to hear someone else's story, that isn't an option, so I'm forcing myself to write my own. As is obvious, my journals since returning to Ethiopia have lacked any sense of perspective or true feeling on my part. I've conveyed to Kari my incapacity to write any anything that would reveal my personal vulnerablities-I've written stories of children and what I've seen and people whom I have visited, I've been frightful of writing because I know that my words cannot nor will they ever convey the reality of any situation I attempt, though full-heartedly, to describe. Language is incapable of describing life and therefore our experiences of tragedy, love, disappointment, happiness, fear, joy, re-birth, passion, misery....Also most of my experiences have become too personal to share...the feelings too deep to write about...too difficult to think about with any sense of understanding...
An experience yesterday is solidified in my mind as a perfect example. Yesterday I visited six foster homes for Hope for Children, as I was still searching for a permanent, loving home for Fyheem. I will never forget the children from the 5th home, never have I felt so lucky and blessed to be in the presence of children.. All 4 children have tragic life stories, though they are only 5, 15, 22, and 24 months, that have forced them into their new lives.
Helen is only 5 months old and was found at about 20 days near a police station, abandoned in the night. She will never know who gave birth to her or what her situation was that forced her to abandoned Helen.
Henok is 15 months, he, as the other 2 older children are battling the flu. This precious angel was found some 100 km outside Addis wrapped in a blanket, next to, what can only be presumed was his family. Henok was the only survivor, at only a few months, of a hyena attack. His family's bodies had been completed ravaged and indistinquishable, how he survived? Miracles really do happen.
Mulu, 22 months, was rescued from the arms of a beggar woman posing as her mother. Mulu was near death when the police took custody of her as she had lived on only water and sugar for 22 days, the woman later confessed.
And lastly, Semalis, 24 months, was taken to Hope for Children by a local church. His 14 year old mother was found to be unable to care for him as she had developed a mental illness after she was raped by her priest at the age of 13. His mother was not able to hold her child because she shook so badly and her eyes unable to focus-permanently rolled toward the back of her head.
These 4 children survived against all odds. Four examples of the world's most vulnerable children. All I could think of the rest of the visit was how grateful I was to meet these beautiful beings. Help them put puzzles together. Sing to Helen. Help Henok with his color naming. And sharing smile with Semalis.
*Names of the children have been changed
