Sunday, June 20, 2010

Child of Innocence


Another day, and I was tramping through the muddy ruts that had been left in the shanty town after the infrequent rains. As I bypassed a shack with fencing and a creaking wooden gate, a young boy stood at the gate, waving at me and speaking unintelligibly. I came nearer, and he beamed at me. All I could think of as I looked at that blindingly innocent smile was, this is what the smile of an angel must look like. Love and happiness radiated from that young lad, despite his humble surroundings. He was delighted to meet someone new, and was welcoming me to his neighbourhood. His mother, a harassed and busy woman, came to the gate to see who it was her son was talking to. She knew me from my days in the town, and explained to me that her son had been mentally challenged since birth. But, she explained to me, his emotional caring and love were the great gift God had given him. She turned back to her washing, after inviting me to drop in at any time to see their family.

I took her at her word, and Ben waited every day at the gate in case I would pass by on my regular clinic visits. Always there would be a smile, and a torrent of words I learned to understand. Ben had his own way of expressing things, and once I got to know him, I understood between his words, his sign language and his mother's interpretation, what he wanted to say. And it was always an outpouring of praise at the beauty of the sunny South African day; or a pig had wandered by, making him laugh at its bristly nose; or he saw a lovely bird; or someone stopped and talked to him, making his day. I grew to love this little chat and visit as I passed the gate, and looked forward to meeting this wonderful little lad.

One day, when I passed by, Ben was outside the gate waving frantically at me. His wonderful eyes were full of tears, and he was waving at his arms. His mom came out, and she told me that Ben had told her he had itching, burning and pain on his skin, but that the 'Angel with the Medicines' would cure him as she had cured so many in the town. I was touched beyond belief at his name for me, by which I was always henceforth known in that town. It was easy to see what was wrong with Ben. It was an itchy and contagious skin infection named scabies, and easy to treat. I left a bottle of lotion with Ben and his mom, with instructions, and the next time I came by Ben was at the gate, waving with his arms to show me his now blemish free and comfortable skin. We rejoiced together, and then I went on to the clinic van.

One day my dad and brother came to visit me. I took them to the shanty town to show them where I was working, and I was keen to introduce them to Ben. I knew Ben would be absolutely delighted to meet them. When I got to the gate, there was no-one there. I could not believe it. This was most unlike Ben. A passerby went past, and I asked him, 'Where is Ben?' 'Up there'. he said. I looked up the hill, and straight at a funeral cortege which was passing by into the cemetery. Tearfully I realised after I spoke further to the passerby, this little angel had passed away peacefully a few nights before in the arms of his father and mother to a better world. I was shattered.

But then I realised afterwards that each of us have a mission when we are put into this world, and Ben fulfilled his at a very early age. He did not only learn the lesson - he was love. To everyone, whether person, animal, plant or insect, he radiated love and respect. And he taught me, through our regular little chats, the greatest lesson we can learn while on this earth; to have joy in the simple things, to have humility, and to be love for others. Lessons which Ben taught me, and I have tried to live through Lumiere Charity. Sometimes those we help, turn out to be our teachers. Ben, may you rest in peace until we meet again.

*Photograph taken by Catherine Nicolette - please feel free to use copyright free for any worthy purpose

Sunday, June 13, 2010

The Children of the Shanty Town


It was early days in my Charity work, and I entered a shanty town at ten a.m. I was struck by how deserted the clay streets seemed to be, only a stray dog and a chicken wandered up and down the dusty streets. It was later I learned that everyone who was able was out working at whatever small job they could get in order to try to have food for their families to eat at the end of the day. Some of the shanty town residents were so desperate that they went to the rubbish dumps to try to find small pieces of cloth or thrown away items that they could recycle or sell for money, even a few cents. They were known as ragpickers, and they were prey to much illness especially skin diseases, due to the work they did.

Anyhow, learning these facts was still in the future, and I entered the shanty house I had been asked by a concerned resident to visit. Nothing could have prepared me for the site that met my eyes. Here lay a gaunt little ten year old girl on a group of rags on the ground. She had huge eyes, and looked numbly at the door when I came in. When she saw me, her eyes lit up with hope. She had heard I was coming. 'Thank you for coming', this little girl gasped. 'What is it, my child,' I asked gently. 'What is wrong? Why did you send me the message?' And this little lady, left at home while her parents tried to earn money to feed her, just gestured at her leg. She had sepsis of the leg which had poisoned the tissue, leaving a huge abscess in place. The abscess was so large she could not lift the leg.

I organised drainage and care of the abscess, liased with a local nurse and health care advisor to visit her on a regular basis and do dressings. Then I left plenty of fresh vegetables and fruit for her, and fresh milk to be brought daily for her to eat and drink. This I received through the kind benefaction of a local shopkeeper who had concern for impoverished children and the disadvantaged. Within three weeks the little one recovered sufficiently well to go back to the education she was thankfully receiving nearby. I never saw her again after that, but I have never forgotten her expression which lit her beautiful face when she saw me. It was hope in the midst of utter agony and despair. And I realised that for this one child who did receive help, there are so many who look in vain for hope. Please let this blog inspire you to help someone in need near you. We - each of us - have the power to make a difference in someone's life - for the better.

*Photograph taken by Catherine Nicolette - please feel free to use copyright free for any worthy purpose