Well, we've had a wonderful but hard week. We're spending a lot of one on one time with the children and their families. We are learning their stories. The children bless us...but it is so tough. Sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough for this. Up until recently I had been handling things pretty well, but sometimes I just break down. They tell us about being abused, about being left, about being starved. And the way they live...these children live in trash, literally. Most of the houses only have one room (two if they are nice), yet they have up to 10 people living inside each of them. All around is a watery, soupy muck--moldy trash floats in the shallow water, but the children run through it barefoot. The strong scents of decay and sewage are in the air. You feel horrified, disgusted, furious, heartbroken, and helpless, a stream of emotions hitting you one after another in quick succession.
A lady came into the school the other day with two children. She lives just outside the school's walls in a small, flimsy shack. She was so, so thin. And she had two children. One appeared to have cerebral palsy. He didn't have clothes. She wanted me to hold him.
Meanwhile, her little girl keeps speaking to her in Khmer, crying. Her mother speaks sternly to the child, motioning "No, no". Then the boy on my lap starts asking her for something. She answers him, too, "No, no". I look at her, and she signs that they want food. A little while later, the girl starts to eat the mud on the ground. I just couldn't take it.
It is unbelievable here. I want to help, but sometimes it is all I can do not to say, "Please don't tell me anymore stories right now".
Please pray for this place. And pray for us.
A lady came into the school the other day with two children. She lives just outside the school's walls in a small, flimsy shack. She was so, so thin. And she had two children. One appeared to have cerebral palsy. He didn't have clothes. She wanted me to hold him.
Meanwhile, her little girl keeps speaking to her in Khmer, crying. Her mother speaks sternly to the child, motioning "No, no". Then the boy on my lap starts asking her for something. She answers him, too, "No, no". I look at her, and she signs that they want food. A little while later, the girl starts to eat the mud on the ground. I just couldn't take it.
It is unbelievable here. I want to help, but sometimes it is all I can do not to say, "Please don't tell me anymore stories right now".
Please pray for this place. And pray for us.
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