Click here to see the 15 second video:
Mada is 11 steps closer to
leaving us.
These 11 wobbly steps poke at my heart, not only because I
am here in California while he is there progressing wildly without me, but
because he is 11 steps closer to leaving us.
(Madalitso -- aka Mada -- is the malnourished orphan we have grown to love and selfishly consider "our own" since he came to Hope Village a year ago for medical attention. He has not gone home yet! Our agreement with Mada's family has always been that he would not return to his extended family until he could fend for himself in the harsh village life. Walking is imperative.)
So, it’s almost time for
Mada to go home. Home to poverty. Home
to his bed on the dirt floor, his bath from a bucket of cold water, his clothes
of rags, his toilet—a hole in the ground.
Home to hunger and thirst.
OK, maybe I’m being a bit of a drama queen. Maybe his life
won’t be that bad. But on my yardstick of a tolerable
environment, his future seems ... well... a bit harder than I would wish for him. But, the truth is, it will be harder for us at
Hope Village to adjust to life without
Mada, then it will be for him to re-adjust to life in the village
again.
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| Anyone think we have gone overboard on his wardrobe? |
I can’t deny he is
returning to a family that loves him. Home
to the aunt and uncle who took him in (and his siblings) when his parents
died; who have faithfully taken turns to visit him at Hope Village every 2 weeks, (6 hours
round trip on bicycle, sometimes in unbearable 120F and higher heat) so “he
won’t forget who we are," they tell us.
Home to his 11-year old sister Mitale who carried him on her
back for those 6 months of homelessness before we found her, as she struggled
to feed not only herself and Mada, but her 2 younger brothers as well, foraging
for leaves in the bush to cook, begging for food from neighbors.
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| Aunt Mary offered Mada some peanuts, reaquanting herself with him last month. |
Mada eyed his 11-year old sister Mitale with curiosity, and comfort, when they saw each other
last month for the first time in a long while. She was once his sole caretaker.
Don always reminds me, “We’ll know it’s time to return Mada to
the village when he can walk.”
Because Mada was severely malnourished when he came to Hope
Village a year ago, his immune system was crushed. He has been tormented with chronic malaria, endless
ear and chest infections, parasitic worms, relentless diarrhea and fevers.
His health has been our
daily battle. With God on Mada’s side (not to forget assistance from Dr. Don), I
think the battle is nearly won.
As subsistence farmers, his aunt and uncle admit they are
not inclined to care for a sickly child.
They get to their fields around dawn and many days don’t come home until
dusk. Mada’s twin died while under their
care last October (his “daycare” was sitting out in the hot sun while they
planted, weeded, harvested), and his death was apparently from complications
due to fever and dehydration.
So, all of us at Hope Village are in unison. Two-and-a-half year old Mada must be able to walk when we say our
goodbyes. To walk when he is thirsty and
grab his own cup of water. To walk when
he is hungry and find his own banana. To
walk to his sister, or brother, or aunt when he’s got another ear infection, or
a fever from malaria, or a tummy ache from another bout with worms.
Don is right -- walking is Mada's ticket out of Hope Village. (Not a ticket I'm eager to sell). It's the lifeline in what could be a very hard, harsh, hunger-filled, poverty-stricken life for a toddler.
There I go again, drama mama.
There I go again, drama mama.
So I wait. And watch his steps. 11 and counting.
If you'd like to help other children like Madalitso, you can email me at leanne.green@me.com.
Or, you can go to our project donation site here, and donate with a credit card (tax-deductible):
