On every mission trip you have a moment, day, or an event that in itself makes the entire fundraising process and trip worth it. In Uganda, that moment happened just five days before we left the country.
The day truly started like every other. After Bible study we left to go to a Muslim school that we had gone to a week before. I wasn’t anymore excited about this school than the others. Like I said, it was a normal day. After we got there we went into the classroom and sang a few songs, one of which is my personal favorite, “Oh Lay Lay”. After awhile it was time to play a few games outside where we had more room. Everyone gathered in a big circle and the games began. Laughter filled the air as games were played and songs were sung. I stepped
out of t
he circle just for a second to take a couple of pictures to capture the moment.
Then all of the sudden I saw her. A little girl with a faded pink shirt tied around her extended belly (extended for lack of nutrients) with a long, dirty, cream skirt, but not long enough to hide her bare little feet (feet that probably had never seen a pair of shoes). Even at her age you could already see the wear and tear from lack of shoes. She looked at me with big brown eyes for just a moment before running back inside and out of sight. I laughed to myself over her running from me, for she probably hadn’t seen many white people in her life. I turned back to what I was doing, but my eyes kept drifting back to the doorway.
A couple of minutes later the little girl came back, but this time a little boy about her age followed her. They both just stood in the doorway staring at me. I began to walk slowly towards them. When only about five feet were left between us they both turned around and ran back inside. I heard a short giggle escape the little boy’s lips, and I realized this was becoming a game to them, so I just stood by the door out of sight waiting for them to come back.
A couple of minutes later I saw both faces peek around the corner. When they saw me they both froze, their eyes never leaving mine. Then very slowly I reached out my hands to them. The boy grabbed one of my fingers on my right hand, and the girl grabbed two on my left. There we stood, none of us even spoke a word; we were just standing there. I began to slowly sit down, and the kids soon followed my example. Slowly, so 
slowly at first I didn’t even notice it, the boy started inching his way into my lap, first one leg, then the next leg, then and his body. All the while he never let go of my finger; his grip, along with the girl’s, was only getting tighter. There we sat, just the three of us, in the hot Ugandan sun. Sweat was pouring from our faces, yet no one dared to move. Suddenly he hopped up and ran back inside, but before I could process what happened my lap was filled once again – with the little girl. She never smiled; she simply sat there content to just be in my lap. A minute later the boy returned determined to get back in his spot. He soon joined her, and again there were three of us. Each child held onto the original fingers they first grabbed.
After about 40 minutes of us sitting there watching the group play someone from my group came and sat beside us. The little boy was more than happy to have a lap of his own and quickly moved to fill her lap. She soon got up to talk to someone taking the little boy with her and leaving me with the little girl who sat still, not saying a word or even smiling.
At this point my feet were bright red from the sun, and sweat begin to seep through my shirt and pants. My pants were so wet I couldn’t tell if it was because of sweat, or if she had peed on me (I got peed on multiple times in Uganda). But it didn’t matter; I knew this was where God wanted me – sitting beside a classroom holding this little girl who wouldn’t even talk to me.
Over the next few minutes I reached out to tickle her in at a last an attempt to get her to laugh or at least smile. At first she just looked at me as if she didn’t really appreciate someone tickling her belly. I was beginning to think this probably wasn’t the best idea, but then it happened. A grin swept across her face, and she let out the sweetest, most precious giggle ever! A giggle that I will never forget. Slowly she reached out to tickle me under my chin, and then sat waiting for me to reply with a laugh. As soon as a laugh came from me she leaned her head back waiting for me to return the tickle. Our remaining time together was spent ticking and laughing together. In that short time I laughed so hard my sides were aching. All the while she never spoke a word. Many different times I asked her what her name was; she would only reply with a giggle.
After spending a little over an hour with her the time came that I was dreading since the moment she grabbed my fingers; it was time to say good-bye. Leaving, I knew I would not see her again, for we weren’t coming back to the school. That in itself broke my heart. This was it, my last moments with her. My team started loading up in the van, each telling me it was time to go. I couldn’t bear to just leave her. For in the little time I had spent with her she had stolen a part of my heart. The fact that I didn’t even know her name didn’t change a thing. I couldn’t imagine just leaving her. Slowing I began getting up. She started walking with me to the van still holding onto the same fingers; her grip still hadn’t loosened. As we walked I continued to speak prayers of protection over her. I knew I was just prolonging saying good-bye, but I wanted to spend every moment that I could with her.
Once we reached the van I picked her up one final time to hug her good-bye and whisper that I loved her before I climbed in the van. As we pulled out of the school all the school kids ran behind the van to say a final good-bye. And there she stood in the doorway of the classroom looking at me. It took everything for me not to lose it on the van ride back to the Jesus House where we were staying.
For the remainder of the day I kept looking at the few pictures that were taken of me and the girl with the faded pink shirt. I watch and re-watched the 7-second video of me with her and the little boy. My heart was already aching for her. And though was nothing that set her apart in appearance from the hundreds of kids we met in Uganda, God set her apart in my heart.
Upon my return to the states I thought that over time she would fade from not just my mind, but also my heart. How wrong I was! It is now seven months later and I still think about her everyday. God has not let her memory slip my mind nor heart. I still remember her with her dirty pink shirt tied around her waist, her fat little belly, and her dirty feet like it was yesterday. I’ve yet to be able to buy a pair of shoes without thinking about her and knowing that still to this day she probably doesn’t have a pair of shoes.
Day after day I find myself wondering what her life is like does she have a family? If so, are they good to her, or has she seen abuse? Is she hungry? Does she have AIDs orsome other disease? The truth is, I will probably never know. And that breaks my heart. I find myself daily praying, praying for protection over her life. Protection from the evil around her. For now this will have to be enough.
Many people might wonder why I chose to go to Nicaragua and Uganda. This is my reason: for kids like her who need someone to show them God’s unfailing love. This is also my reason for going on Immersion. As I said, this little girl isn’t the only child like this in the world. There are million out there like her who don’t just need things money can buy. They need love. Love that can only be shown through actions, actions like sitting together, laughing together, sweating together and holding hands.
