One month from today:
- I will not be sleeping under a mosquito net,
- but I will also not be waking up with an ocean view out my window.
- I will not be complaining about cow stomach soup or lentils for lunch (again),
- but I will not be eating with some of the passionate, inspirational people I have met during my time here.
- I will be back with my church family,
- but I will not have the chance to see the amazing missionary families I have met in Trujillo.
- I will not be trying to convince my tutoria boys to finish their homework,
- but I will also not be able to give them a hug or see their smiles or tell them how proud I am of them.
- I will not be cleaning with a wooden "mop" and rag,
- but I will also not be having great conversations with other workers here.
- I will not be struggling to manage documents and information and money from the other side of the Equator
- but I will be a hemisphere away from the kids that I have cried with, prayed for, punished, praised, played with, tutored, read with, hugged, listened to, tucked into bed, and loved during my time here.
- I will not be face to face every day with the legal situation and emotional, physical, and spiritual needs of the precious children of Hogar de Esperanza,
- but I will be looking forward to graduate school, and hoping that someday I can bring an abandoned child somewhere in the world home to a forever family. -C
Love this post, Courtney. I think it sums up how everyone feels when they leave that place. I can definitely relate. I left a year and 12 days ago and I still feel this way most of the time. Thanks for taking care of those precious kids!
ReplyDelete