And I met them.
On Wednesday morning while I was in Uganda, I went on an adventure to explore the countryside and more of the town of Masaka. Curious about where a particular road wondered, I followed it. I thought and hoped it would circle around and become a back way to Masaka (I was wrong about this and ended up walking quite a few miles out of the way!) On route, however, I saw a little boy who was dressed in rags. He approached me carrying a pouch. “Do you want to buy?” He spoke in ragged English. When he opened his pouch, I saw scrap pieces of metal and immediately knew him to be a street child.
“How much?” I asked.
He misunderstood me, thinking that I asked him how much he had, and pulled out a handful of coins (worth very little). I espied a 200 shillings coin and pulled out a 2000 shillings bill. “I’ll buy that coin for 2000 shillings.” I said. His eyes grew wide. We traded.
And as I went on my way, he kept saying, “God bless you, sir! God bless you!”
Later that evening, Moses K. and I walked down to Nyendo so I could again participate in feeding the children. A handful of four to five children sat waiting for their food, which consisted of mere porridge and a few pieces of white bread—hardly sustainable or nourishing! As I recorded a few of them and their stories, a couple more trickled in from the streets for the free meal. For a little while we stayed there but then Moses K. led the children and I to the place where some would sleep for the night.
Fred and
Ronald #1 (there were two named Ronald) held my hands as we wove through the
byways and back streets of Nyendo. We
squished through mud, jumped over puddles, and wove our way through the
alleyways of Nyendo until we reached the shelter Little Hands of Hope rents for
11 of the street boys. It is a room we
visited early in the week: small, maybe 3 paces in width and a little over four
in length. Eleven children, possibly a
few others, will stay the night there and then return to the streets when
morning dawns. One mattress, a few rugs
on the cold cement floor, and a mosquito net are the only items to grace the
otherwise barren room.
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| The building where 11 of the children will stay for a night |
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| The inside of the house where 11 street children will stay |
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| Some of the street children Little Hands of Hope feeds |
But Fred
would not sleep there that night or any night.
He was older, somewhere in his teens perhaps. He then led us further and deeper into the town through a maze of
streets and people to an old brick building filled with trash. Some street children would sleep there for
the night, using darkness for covering and trash for blankets. Then, Fred took us deeper, as if bringing us
to the heart of life on the streets, to the place where he and perhaps others
would sleep that very night. In a
little concave of houses, he showed us a bare porch, his bed for the
night. A concrete slab built into an
adjacent building provided a temporary bed for other street children.
Moses K. became nervous, perhaps because it was ‘dangerous’ for a white person to be out and about after dark. Who knows?
So I returned to the comfort of a retreat center in the nun’s convent with the stinging thought that several children ages 6 and above would endure another night on the streets. Home, clean water, food, sanitation, someone to tuck them in at night and say, “I love you”—these children have none of these things.
The Ministry of Little Hands of Hope seeks to bring a touch of God’s light and love to the many children by a simple meal. If you feel God’s tug on your heart for these children and desire to help them, click the above Little Hands of Hope to see more of its ministry in Uganda.
