I'll Never Forget this Day

What started as a friendly trip to a school turned into the most memorable day of my Peace Corps service, to date.

It was Thursday morning and my counterpart was getting ready to leave the office. She came to me and said that she was going to a school for disabled children to pass out candy. She'd done this the day before and asked for me to join her, but I was unable to go. This was my second chance. Without a second thought, I said "I'm coming with you!" Surprised, she smiled and said "ok! Let's go!"

My counterpart, her two friends and I packed 6 heavy boxes into a tiny Prius and squeezed outselves into the car, grinning ear-to-ear. After about 20 minutes, we finally arrived. Each of us carried a 30-pound box to the administrative office, which took us about 5 minutes (but when it's -5F outside and there's black ice everywhere, that's not an easy task).

The school administrator (I'm guessing the principle?) escourted us to a tiny room with two blind children, both about 4 to 5 years old. One little boy was trying to learn how to walk on his own, and the other was in time out. I introduced myself to the little boy who was learning how to walk, and he immediately held out his arms. I walked back and forth with him for about a minute. He then grabbed ahold of my arms and folded his legs, signaling that he wanted to be held. I couldn't refuse! He touched my face and hair, trying to draw a mental picture of me. When he got to my hair he was thoroughly confused, lol....so I said "I'm special, like you!" He hugged me tight, resting his head on my shoulders and wiping his eyes sleepily. I rocked him side-to-side, kissing his cheek and giving him positive affirmations.

The beauty in that moment was that this child knew nothing about me, and for all intents and purposes had all of his defenses down. Yet he was so loving and affectionate. In his moment of vulnerability he chose to be trusting and loving, something I have a hard time doing as an adult with baggage. At that moment I felt so connected with him. When two people let their guards down and share uninhibited love and affection, they create a deeply meaningful bond where Christ's work is possible. In Ephesians 5:1-2, it reads "Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us..." This little boy demonstrated how to walk in the way of love as a dearly loved child.

I held him in my arms as we were escourted to the music room where there were at least 20 other blind children sitting, waiting patiently in their seats. The music teacher started playing a song, and the children performed the song in unison with gusto. Afterwards, we handed out the candy bags. They screamed, smiled, held the bags in the air, jumped up and down, and even hugged the bags like they were precious teddy bears. Sure, children love candy, but this was different. I could tell that these children do not receive gifts often and this was an amazing moment. They didn't open the bags and tear into the candy right away. They basked in the moment, holding the bag, feeling the wrapping, and mentally synthesizing its contents all while smiling ear-to-ear. They took in that moment with all of its fullness and appreciated everything about it. I had a moment of quiet reflection. When I receive a blessing, it's not time to immediately consume. Instead, I need to bask in the moment--feel and express joy, demonstrate gratitude and admire God's generosity.

Then we went upstairs to visit the deaf students. One room had 3 infants (1 to 3 years old....SOOOOO FRICKIN CUTE!!), and this time they could see me. All eyes were on me. The teacher taught me how to sign "Hello, everyone! How are you?" One little girl with a cleft lip ran and hid from me in fear (as many infants do when they first see me), but sure enough my charisma sucked her in, LOL. I played a little peek-a-boo behind the chalk board where she was hiding. On the fourth turn, I had the basket of candy in my hands. She was like "OH YEAH, YOU'RE COOL." The teacher taught me how to say "goodbye," as we left the room.

We left that room, and went into our final room with about 10 deaf children all sitting at a round table. When I walked through the door they all screamed and pointed in excitement, while other kids were trying to pick their jaws up off the floor. They'd probably never seen a black person before and they were amazed. They signed to the teacher, asking "where did she come from!?" The teacher turned to me and asked where I was from, to which I replied "Be Americas irsen" (I'm from America). She ran outside the door and brought back a small picture of an American flag. She pointed to the flag, and then pointed to me. Then, she began depicting the Statue of Liberty with her hands by signing the crown on her head and the torch in her hands. I nodded and smiled. We handed out the candy one final time. Of course, the children were elated (as they nodded and looked at one another in approval, I can imagine them saying, "this chick from America is alright!") Each and every one of them waved and clapped their hands to catch my attention, and then signed "thank you!" The teachers taught me how to say "no problem," and we were on our way. What I loved about that moment was that I got to show these children, who may have never met an American before, that America is a diverse country. Usually, Mongolians don't believe that I'm from America, or they think that I was born in Africa but moved to the US afterwards. This time, their first exposure to a real-life American was outside of their expectations. These children were old enough to remember this moment, which I hope that they will never forget.

That day was so simple, yet so rich. I never imagined that this simple act of kindness could light up my life. These last two months have been extremely stressful and that day reminded me of why I'm here.