I may not be in Uganda right now, but a part of my heart sure is...

When I left Uganda, I waited and waited for the tears to come.  But they never did.  I waited every time a child asked me when I was leaving, every day that got closer to leaving, every minute I soaked up holding and spending time with the children that I love, knowing that in a few weeks, I would give anything to have those moments back again.  I waited when I packed up my things, I waited when I said goodbye to all of the kids at the orphanage, I waited when Patrick, William, David, and my little brother, Fred, took me to the airport, when I said goodbye to them, when I was walking away, as I sat in the airport, and when I got on the airplane.  They never came.

I left Uganda exactly one month and two days ago.  It feels like so much longer than that.  As soon as I got back to the States, I was catching up with friends, family, and my boyfriend.  I was packing for school, and three days later, I left for school.  Once I got here, I had to jump right into RA training, classes, my practicum at SOAR, and homework.  Now I'm finally getting back into the routine of school.  I'm starting to figure out my schedule.  When to do my homework, when to sleep, when to relax, etc.  Now I have time to breathe.  Time to think. 

The last few days have been so hard for me.  My mind keeps going to Uganda.  It started getting bad a few days ago when I decided to look at pictures and watch videos of my RUHU kids.  My heart broke when I heard those precious little voices.  Cathy was jumping up and down yelling "Mzungu, mzungu! Oli otya!" over and over again until she finally ran out of breath.  Brian was yelling into the camera in Luganda, giving a tour of the Safe House, shamelessly smacking the head of any boy who got in the way, probably saying hilarious things the whole time that I can't even understand.  Honey and Rebecca were telling their life stories.  The little boy (whose name I never learned) was running up and hugging mine, Kristy's, and Vivian's legs like he always did every morning.  Kato and Waswa were being precious (and hilarious) little Kato and Waswa.  All of those beautiful voices were worshipping God while they danced, closed their eyes, and focused all of their attention on God.

Me with Kato (left) and Waswa (right)

Then came the waterworks.  I couldn't help it.  My heart literally hurts because I have left a part of it there with them.  Since that day, I have gone to bed thinking about them, and woke up thinking about them.  I think about a lot of things.  I wonder if they really know just how much I miss them.  I wonder if they miss me, or if I am just one of those people who came and went, never to be seen or heard from again.  I think about when I will get to see them again (hopefully next summer), and how much they will have grown up by that time.  My heart breaks when I think about how many of the Safe House kids will run back to the slums, what they are going through now, and what they will have gone through by the time I go back to see them.  I think specifically about those special kids who completely stole my heart while I was there: Abu, Cathy, Sumaiya, Fred, Collins, Yurio and Honey.  I think, and think, and think, until my heart can't handle it anymore.

Today I caught myself playing with my bracelets and rings.  To someone else, they are blatantly violating all fashion laws.  But to me, they are the only physical things that I can wear to remind me of the kids no matter where I am.

Me with some of the boys at RUHU.  Honey is the tallest!

Two of the dirty, colorful bracelets made of thread were made by a 16-year old boy named Honey.  We talked for hours about life, the future, Uganda, America, etc.  He was one of the only kids that I could sit down with and have a real in-depth conversation.  He would come up to me and just start conversations with me because he wanted to talk.  He was so hungry to learn new things.  His story is heartbreaking and also eye-opening.  He has so much faith, even after all that he has been through in his young life.  He is so mature and respectful and he is going to turn into such a wonderful man.

Shamim :)

One of the dirty, colorful bracelets on my wrist is from 8-year old Shamim.  She has the most beautiful eyes.  She was actually the first child to ever write a letter to me while I was there.  I didn't even know who she was when I saw her name signed on the letter after someone else delivered it to me.  But as time went on, I got to know her and her wonderful personality.  I had my kids from SOAR and some of the kids from my mom's church write letters to the kids at RUHU before I went to Uganda.  Because so many of the kids had a hard time speaking and understanding English, Shamim would help the younger ones write their letters back to the American kids.  She was a huge help, sometimes even offering to actually write their letters for them (though I said no to this offer).  Shamim is such a fine young girl, and I'm so excited to see where God takes her in life!

Umaru!!

Umaru gave me a metal ring.  All the boys at the Safe House wore these rings, but I have no idea what they really are, or where they got them, but I don't think that they are really supposed to be rings that you wear on your finger.  Umuru is a quiet easy-going 14-year old boy.  He would always try to talk me into bringing him back to America with me.  I told him that I didn't have the money.  I didn't even have the money to fly myself to Uganda and back, but I don't think he really understood how hard it really is to do that, and how much work it took.  But he would beg and beg.  Umaru escorted me to places many times.  When I needed to walk somewhere by myself, usually Umaru was the first to offer to escort me.  We had many good talks while we walked, usually about America and his desire to go.  I tried to get him to understand that just going to America wouldn't make him rich, and that he actually had to work to make money.

Me with Brian (left) and Collins (right)

The ugly, off-white piece of elastic that is tied around my wrist is from precious 10-year old Collins, who also gave me a metal ring that I wear on my finger.  He was always giving me gifts.  He gave me another bracelet, but it broke already.  He also gave me a car that he made just for me, and several letters.  This boy has the sweetest spirit.  He is one of the youngest at the Safe House, and said that he plans on never going back to the streets again.  He clung onto me almost instantly when I got there, and I ended up falling completely in love with him.

My little brother and me :)

My favorite piece of "jewelry" came from Fred, my 14-year old little brother.  (Fred asked me if he could be my little brother, since he didn't have any real family.)  I will never forget the moment when he gave it to me.  A few days before, he had asked me who my real ring was from (the one that I got here in America).  I told him that it was from my daddy, and that I wore it all the time.  When Fred gave me his ring, he took my dad's ring off my finger, and said, "when you see this ring, you will think of your daddy."  And then holding up his own ring, he said, "when you see this ring, you will think of your little brother."  Then he put his own ring on my finger, and then my dad's ring on the same finger.  I still wear it just like that.  I spent a lot of time with Fred.  I almost didn't get to say goodbye to him, but at the very last second, he ended up getting to come with me to the airport!!  On the way, he made me little origami airplanes that I still keep.  He promised me that he would wait for me to come back to Uganda, and that he wouldn't run back to the slums.  I hope and pray that he keeps his promise.  My heart hurts to think about him back in the slums.

I figured that I would wear all of this "jewelry" while I was there in Uganda, and then take it off once I got back to America.  But I can't bring myself to take them off.  They don't match any outfit, they are dirty, and they probably look ridiculous, but I have such happy memories every time I look at them, and I don't want to take them off.

The bracelet from Honey, and ring from my dad and Fred :)

One bracelet from Honey, one from Shamim, and two rings from Umaru and Collins.

Wise, little Pauline holding Baby Miracle

I think I have cried every day since that first day that I watched the videos.  My heart is torn in so many ways.  There are people and kids that I love like crazy here, but my heart also longs for my RUHU kids.  I remember one of the first days that I was in Uganda, I was really sick.  A big part of it was probably because of the change in diet, schedule, continents, etc.  But I also think that part of it was that I was really homesick.  I was really missing my boyfriend and my family.  I was lying on Momma Faith's bed trying to rest, when I received the wisest advice I think I've ever heard.  9-year old Pauline came into the room and asked how I was.  I told her I was ok, just a little sick, and she said these three things: "Don't lose hope; God knows you; it will be ok," and then she walked out.

Now, here I am lying on my own bed in my dorm room, homesick for the kids that I love so much in Uganda.  I am a little selfish, because I am worried that they will forget me.  I am worried that something will happen and I won't get to see them again.  I am worried about their safety.  But I have to remember that God is holding them close to his heart; and he is holding me close to his heart.  I have to remember Pauline's words: "Don't lose hope; God knows you; it will be ok."