Tembisa Orphanage

Visiting the orphanage was by far everyone's favorite part of our trip to South Africa. My father warned me that we were likely to be swamped by the children when we arrived, but as Nielsens are prone to exaggeration, I took this with a grain of salt. 

Before we'd even completely parked, the van was surrounded and when I opened the door, there were no less than 8 children with their arms thrown wide open, gleefully crying "HOLD!!!" I went from child to child giving quick hugs and barely had time to turn around and snap this picture:

We were swamped. When I hugged this little boy, he didn't let go of me. I ended up wearing him sort of like a backpack for a while and he was thrilled when I took this picture with him. He was so very thin, I think he was lighter than Brigitta!

We brought I Am Loved buttons in different colors for the children. My parents told me once when the senior missionaries visited, one couple brought small soccer balls for the kids. After a while, they realized a little boy (who was not one of the orphans) was sneaking the balls out under the gate to a man standing in the street with a large sack. When the missionaries yelled at them, the boy and the man ran off. You can't get much lower than stealing from orphans. The children were excited to choose among the buttons and more than one didn't want to choose a color- they were just grateful to get something at all. 

Dad's words were prophetic as I continued to be mobbed by the children.

Once they received their button from me, the children ran over to Brent to have him pin it on them.

Mom set up for the lunch we brought: buckets of KCF, knick knacks, fruit snacks and small soda bottles. Again, the children were excited to choose among the many flavors. 

The orphans embraced the girls in the sweetest and most innocent way. I was reminded that no one is born a racist. They ran about playing with them, much to the girl's delight. They instantly had a slew of new friends.

I fell in love with Brent all over again. His mission experience in Guatemala was readily apparent as he comfortably interacted with the children. 

The littlest ones adored my Dad. Many people see him as imposing and intimidating, but those toddlers just adopted him as their grandpa. 

We were all touched a lot. Our skin, and especially, our hair. Sydney and Brigitta were practically manhandled they were touched so much and so often.

Finally it was time to eat. Those children sat perfectly still, not touching a thing on their plate until the prayer was said. I'm so glad I caught the prayer on video. Even though the smallest kids don't yet speak English (their native language is Zulu), they all know this prayer very well. They cry:

Thank you Father,

For the food!

For the food!

Many, many blessings!

Many many blessings!

AaahWaaahMEN! AaahWaahMEN!

Please Jesus, Amen.

One of the workers told me they teach the children to say AaahAaahMEN but they seem to like AaahWaahMEN better. It was so very humbling to see these orphans fervently thank the Lord (with eyes shut tight!) for all they have, when they clearly have next to nothing. The girls settled in to eat with their new friends.

The amount of joy and happiness in such a place was overwhelming. Most of these children have lost their parents to AIDS which has wiped out an entire generation in Africa.

Liesel ate mostly the crunchy skin and when she went to throw the rest away, a tiny hand reached up and caught it before it fell into the trash. They do not waste here. We were told we brought enough to feed the children for two meals. Mama, the head of the orphanage thanked Mom and Dad for bringing meat, as the children rarely get any. 

One of the workers noted Brigitta is very independent and active. She called her a "busy bee" and at one point, Brigitta spilled a bit of her soda on the ground. Rather than leaving it, she scooped up the mud she'd created and tried consuming it that way. One of the orphans approached me to let me know the little girl in pink needed her mother. It's kind of a sad day when orphans feel sorry for your child. Not my finest motherhood moment for sure. 

Sydney was universally adored. She was swept out of my and Brent's arms often. He wouldn't let the small children hold her (which they begged to do). Brent sternly told them she was too little. But the older children and the workers couldn't be stayed.

After lunch, these boys took the lids from their sodas and set up these two bricks. They made a game out of trying to roll the lids between the bricks.

This little boy asked that I take his picture. Because they have so few electronics, the orphans were particularly excited to see their image in photos. Mom and Dad decided the next time they visit, they will print out some photos they've taken so the children can have some to keep.

I was told this boy could dance but when I asked him to, he became incredibly shy. After a while, he jumped in and showed me his moves. Sorry it's on its side. I forgot I had my camera and not my iPhone which adjusts according to orientation.

 My heart aches just seeing this one. This little girl had big burn marks on her neck and one hand only had two fingers. She didn't speak much English and she said something to me about me... take her... with Sydney? I thought she was joking that I should take her home with me, along with Sydney. Only later, on the ride back to my parent's flat, did I understand she was asking me to take a picture of her with Sydney! I did take a picture of her, but she's clearly disappointed. She quickly covered her hand and the worst parts of her scars. I hope she didn't think I wouldn't let her hold Sydney because of her handicap! She was the sweetest girl.

This girl on the other hand, spoke very good English. Not to mention she pulled Sydney out of my arms without even bothering to ask and basically demanded I take a photo. When I showed it to her, she laughed heartily, "Black and white! Look at us! We are black and white!"

This is "Mama", the head of the orphanage. She never intended to start an orphanage, but she took in two children and it has grown from there. After we cleaned up from lunch, she showed my mom the babies, who were all sleeping. One of them was brought to her when she was only 3 weeks old-- her mother had been put in prison. Many of the workers thanked us and told us we had made a difference for the children.

The girls waved goodbye to their little friends. As we drove away my dad asked, "Have you ever seen such Christ-like love?" 

I have to admit, I haven't. Those orphans didn't care who we were, where we were from, the color of our skin or even what we had brought with us. They only wanted to feel loved and were grateful for anything we gave them. Maybe we made a difference for them, but those orphans will live forever in our hearts.