Food Distribution Day

I don’t even know where to begin on the food distribution day. It was amazing, humbling, amazing, heart breaking and amazing.

We started early in the morning. The huge lorry (a massage truck) was here at 7:00 am and they started loading the truck as soon as possible. By 7:50, us in the taxi were on the road; the lorry with the rest of the crew wasn’t to be too far behind.

We (Sandy, Dolores, Joanne and me) arrived at the first location; Maili Saba (my-lee sa-ba) and were greeted by the District Children’s Officer, Phillip who was there waiting for us. The next to arrive was a sweet, amazing woman by the name of Rebecca who lives in the community that we were doing the distribution. She and Anne, our social worker, were the ones who did all the main searching and interviewing of the neediest families in that area.

I got a call from Daniel; the lorry had broken down. They were waiting for a pickup truck to come and get them; they would load the truck and be on their way. Unfortunately the pickup truck is much smaller than a lorry so it was going to take about three trips for all of the food and blankets to get to the chapel building where we were all meeting with these families.

And then I saw her, this beautiful little girl. She was standing outside the chapel building by herself, looking a little lost. She wore this cute blue and white checkered dress, her skin a very pale white and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She was a Kenyan albino girl and her name was Patience. I immediately went over to her and scooped her up in my arms. She wasn’t at all scared of me and welcomed my arms around her. Right away, I noticed something else about her. She had Down Syndrome; another thing that is very close to my heart. I seriously just wanted to snatch her up and take her. I walked her to the front of the church where the women and children had begun singing worship songs and the Foster Group was giving out sweets. I wanted to make sure that Patience got her sweet too.

The building was packed with women and children. There were a few men, one blind, one a single father. There were women of all ages, some young mothers with many children, others were grandmothers caring for their grandchildren. So many women looked sick, tired and sad. Sad that this is the life they were living. Maybe some had a choice of the life they were now living but most of them probably didn’t. It was heartbreaking to see. There were women who looked like they were in their 90’s, fragile, barely able to move but when it came time to get up and sing their praises to the Lord, they suddenly found this energy within themselves to stand up, clap their hands and shout out at the top of their lungs.

I can’t even describe the room during worship time to you all. Amanda got it on video and I hope to someday post it somewhere for all to see as it gives a better view of what these women and children sounded like when singing to God. The room was filled with people; there was one woman leading and the rest of the people following her. At first, they all stood there, singing their hearts out to God but then they got filled with even more joy and started dancing around. Before we knew it, they were grabbing us girls’ hands and dancing with us; they were hugging us, kissing us and saying “Asante Sana” (meaning Thank you very much) to us.

At one point, watching these women and children, who are obviously desperate people, I got completely emotional. I turned to Amanda and said, “How can you look at moments like this, desperate people praising God like this and not believe that He exists?” I was completely overwhelmed with a huge sense of love for God, for the love He has for each one of us. Even hours later, a day later, I’m still overwhelmed by what I saw and felt.

The speeches began: the children’s officer, Daniel, Sandy (leader of the Foster Group), the pastor of the church, etc. I heard a few children crying, one of them being a little boy and the other – Patience, sweet Patience. I immediately went over to her, picked her up and consoled her. I rocked her in my arms and within a minute she had calmed down, put her head on my shoulder and arms around my neck. Within five minutes, she was asleep and I was totally in love.

Kathy, one of the ladies on the Foster Group, and I were dotting all over Patience. Kathy is a retired teacher with special needs children so she immediately was drawn to Patience as well. Because Patience is an albino, her skin and eyes are extremely sensitive to the sun. Her head, face and little hands were extremely burned from the hot sun beaming down on it, probably all day every day. Kathy and I got her up on a table, grabbed baby wipes from Kathy’s backpack and I began wiping/cleaning her arms, hands, and feet while Kathy wiped down her face. We found a severely blistered upper lip from the sun’s rays. After washing her down, we covered her in suntan lotion, someone from the team put a bandana on her head and then Kathy and I went and found her mother and asked her to start covering up Patience from head to toe and to keep this bandana on her head if a hat was unavailable. We told her that she especially needed to protect Patience’s eyes as albinos have very sensitive eyes and the sun can be very harsh to them. At that moment, I wish that I had had a pair of little children’s sunglasses; I would have put them on her right away.

After we would distribute the food (corn and beans) and the blankets, Eva, Kate, Jared and I would walk around and pray for each family that received something. The people were so welcoming of the prayers, the blessings they said they received. They were coming up to us constantly, thanking us for helping them, for thinking of them and putting together such a wonderful thing for them. The children were so happy to be around white people and were so welcoming of the hugs. I could have sat there all day in the grass with all those children.

After about two hours, we got ready to head back in to Kitale Town for lunch, and preparation for the next food distribution that we were doing that afternoon. The second place that we went to was called Shimo La Tewa (She-mo La Tay-wa). It’s just a few minutes from our home and is a slum area. The slum is well known for high alcoholism and prostitution/rape. The Shimo La Tewa Primary School, made up of two-thirds slum children, state that they have at least 5 pregnancies per year from girls who have prostituted themselves or been victims of rape. This is an elementary school; how young these girls are.

When we arrived and finished getting the food distributing organized at the Shimo Primary School, we were still 45 minutes early then what was planned with the family. However, each family member was already there. They were so excited and anxious that they were early and more than ready for us.

Before distributing, Daniel, Anne and Sandy spoke to the women, a few men and the children for a few minutes. Again, as the Maili Saba distribution, there was this little boy, about six years old, who was crying. I walked over to him, knelt down and asked him if he was okay. He started rambling something off in Swahili, crying hard and big tears streaming down his face. I took a finger and wiped the tears from his face; he immediately stopped crying. I rubbed his cheek and he calmed down; he actually closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against my hand. It’s amazing what a little physical touch can do for a person.

After the short speeches, the distributing began. Like Maili Saba, the families were called by name to come and collect their maize and beans and blankets (some received more than others, based on the number of people in their family). Kate, Eva and I walked around and prayed for each family who received their items. It was so cute when we had people coming over to us, saying they haven’t been prayed for yet and could we come and pray for them. That was awesome.

I’m overwhelmed today; so many people touched my heart today; specifically, my new sweet friend Patience in Maili Saba. I just can’t seem to get her and her beautiful face out of my head or heart. I find myself becoming emotional over her, a worry in me. Obviously she comes from an extremely poor family and suffers from two disabilities: albino (which isn’t a disability but needs to be cared for) and Down Syndrome. And with the culture not being very accepting to people with “disabilities”, I find myself fearing for this little girl. Is she properly being cared for? Are her emotional and mental needs being met? Obviously the mother is not educated on caring for a child who is an albino as the poor little girl has burned skin from the sun and it’s not necessarily the mother’s fault. They are uneducated: the parents but also people in general.

I’m going to keep in contact with Rebecca, the lady who lives in the Maili Saba community and worked with Anne on this project. I want to keep updated on Patience; she’s touched my heart, a very deep place in my heart. I can’t describe it; I can’t explain it. She’s just so precious.

I’ll try to post pictures soon. It sucks that I lost the cable for my camera so I have to rely on other people’s cameras for pictures. You can also look on our TI website (www.transformedinternational.org) for pictures too.

Thanks to everyone for your prayers. The day was a complete success and we are so thankful to the Foster Group for allowing us to be a part of this day. And we above all else, thank God for providing the resources and funds to be able to do this.

I love you all!
Meredith
xoxoxo