The Rose in a Trash Heap, Day 4

Day 4 at Imani. It was yet another great day--hard, back-breaking and testing--but still "very okay" (the Kenyan equivalent to our "very good" or "great"). Uncle Tito (the young guy who taught me alot on my first day) actually stayed to help in my age group for the entire day; which was great cause he is far, far more experienced and knowledgeable than I am going to be any time soon. Plus he's cool to be around. Today I had all the same delight with my regular favorites (Abigail, Christian and Immanuel) as well as all the same trials with the troublemakers (Chrispen and Victor).

Abigail is just the sweetest and most darling thing. She almost NEVER whines, crys or has a hissy-fit, and she is always effortlessly easy to cheer up and make smile. I can just look at her and say her name, and she gives me the biggest, full-mouthed smile I have ever seen. I love it! I have seen that girl completely surrounded by cryers while she remained perfectly calm and content in her chair. In fact, I've seen her reach out and pat the crying baby on the head or face all the while having an adorable "It's okay, don't cry" or "What is this loud thing laying next to me" expression on her face. I have seen her in just about every scenario that makes others complain or cry, and she is always happy. When they need their diapers changed all 10 of them cry, she doesn't. When they are all hungry they whine, she waits. When I have to pull the cup or spoon away from their mouths cause they are finished they pout, she smiles. When someone hasn't been noticed or held for awhile they scream blood murder, Abigail contemplates the complexity of her own fingers. Talk about AWESOME. Actually, one of the reasons I felt so attached to this girl was because she reminded me of my little sister when she was a baby. Always quiet, always content, just watching and waiting. That is until her rambunctious and mischievous older brother would scamper up to her baby seat and poke her naggingly as a form of curiosity and entertainment, lol. Once she could no longer take it (often after long-endured patience) she would cry aloud for parental aid to "shoo" me off to a more constructive and energy-draining activity.

As for Christian he's another story. He too is one of my favorites for some of the same reasons as Abigail (independence, happiness, and generally peacefully quiet), but fits into these "similar" categories in very different ways. He too is independent from the group and often goes unaffected by their tantrums, but his independence sometimes gets him into trouble/funny positions. Being second oldest yet biggest in the room, Christian's progressing physical development has led him to more readily test what his body can do. For example, when laying down (even if surrounded by cryers) he completely ignores the other babies and almost instantly begins rocking side to side while then simultaneously contracting his strengthening hamstring muscles (a motion that none of the other babies have even considered attempting). This action often finds him either halfway out of his seat at an angle or with his entire body out of the seat now hanging on the floor with only his head pivoted on the seat. This often happens while I am looking away (my excuse) so when I place him down in his car seat on the ground, leave to get something and return to see him--yet again in a strange position--I often just laugh aloud at how silly he looks. Then I walk up to him and while towering over him look down and say, "Christian! What are you doing boy?!" Nearly every time he just looks right back at me smiles super big, and give that adorable, little baby cry that just melts your heart. Somehow he is always happy and seemingly more comfortable in those awkward positions. He's so cute. BUT one of the things that cracks me up AND adds to both my favoritism and AVOIDANCE of him is his eating habits. Being a BIG BOY he has a notable appetite. Okay, seriously, the kid eats like a small horse! He will down 3 cups of porridge in the time it takes another baby to drink half a cup (no exaggeration, I tested it once, lol). It's hilarious to watch. BUT when you but ALOT into your body, often ALOT must in-turn leave your body and Christian is notorious for having a diaper even larger than his appetite. As one girl put it, "He reminds us that we feed him well." This is a sugar-coated expression for a horrifying truth... Let's just say on average, changing Christian is like opening a linen clothe-wrapped grenade labeled poo! It's hard to say what you will find, but it's always carnage. What cracks me up is that he is often laughing or smiling while you change him. As if he is perfectly aware of what he did AND what you now have to do because of it, lol. Needless to say when I am not changing him I am either laughing on the inside and praising God's Holy name for sparring me BUT when it is me I am either crying on the inside or trying to hold breakfast in, lol.

Last but not least is our little Immanuel. He is probably the smallest baby and literally has the face of an African Angel. He is beautiful. Every time you make eye contact he smiles, and not only that but his smile powerfully resembles that of a person who is so extremely happy to see you that his eyes are tearing from the immense joy. That is really how this little baby smiles. It never ceases to make me and the other workers smile. Also, when you pick him up, his hands and arms often shake frantically along your cheeks and face as if he hasn't seen you in ages and just wants to fully soak up your presence--all the while smiling in that special way of his. He just makes you feel so special to him its amazing.

On the flip side, there's Chrispen. My little thorn. He is the absolute loudest, longest enduring and most obnoxious cryer I have ever seen. No matter the occasion that kid is unhappy: hungry, too full, tired, wet, dry, nap too short, nap too long, chair not angled perfectly, haven't touched him recently enough, you didn't look at him when you entered the room OR you did look at him while entering and SOMEHOW reminded him that he was lacking something--EVERYTHING--everything makes him cry. Ironically I found one redeeming quality of Chrispen's discontent and its when I pick him up, lay on my back and rest him on my chest. Then and only then does he seem to stop crying... I was overjoyed the first time it worked. He just lay there with his head on my chest and genuinely rested! Being in that position reminded me back to when I was his age and how I loved nothing more than to lay on my dad's chest and fall asleep to the sound of him breathing. Like I said, I was ecstatic to see it work on him, and it even gave me a special window into the beauty of being in a fatherly position. It was really nice.

Today was our last day at Imani A and it was really tough saying goodbye to the kids. I had only known them for about a week and already I miss them. Next week we begin manual labor at Imani B which should be easy and convenient by comparison. Plus, because we have been staying at Imani B, starting to work will be as simple as walking out our front door. Oh oh oh! and I can't forget about the kid COVERED in poo! Watching the British and Aussie girl get totally grossed out and not know what to do was more than entertaining. It was truly the Lord that I had the strength to leave what I was doing and walk over, pick up the kid myself, take him to the shower and wash him off myself... All the while I admittedly held him afar. Hands swinging wildly while layered in poo; not really my thing. I can't believe that boy was actually taking his own poo, applying it to his head, face, and arms like lotion, then would rub his eye and suck his thumb!!