by lynne

I never expected to fall in love in Uganda. Certainly not in such a short time, nor with so many.

The children at St. Mary Kevin, all survivors of atrocities unimaginable and heinous, have captured my heart.

Some are shy, some are bold. Yet ther are all brave and so very strong. Circumstances have made them wise beyond their years.

Their eyes tell stories they don’t often have words for. The stories I have heard have made my eyes swollen from tears.

I question everything. How is it possible for these children to draw guns from memory, yet carry on with such amazing grace? How is it possible to have lost everything and everyone, yet continue to smile, laugh, sing and dance? Their strength and resilience humble me.

They grasp for your hands, cling to your body – so eager to be loved, and so full of love.

I have been struck by the tenderness and guidance so graciously offered by the older children to those younger. Having lost all family, they have created new ones.

Every day, one member of my family has checked in with me. And every day I am ever more grateful for their love and support.

They have listened to the heartbreaking stories and to those of promise. The work that our team is doing is, in short, miraculous and palpable. Demons have been released, burdens have been lifted and smiles have grown and emerged. Eyes are brighter.

I naively thought that being “video girl” would create a professional detachment, if you will. I thought that being the “fly on the wall” – the observer – would keep my emotions at bay.

Instead, I have been brought in, engaged, welcomed, and most importantly, trusted.

Connections have been made. Some playful, some soulful, but all meaningful.

I have fallen hard.