The Teaspoon

One of the first places we went outside of the Zion Project was to the Kasubi Slum. This was a small area outside of town where the Congolese sex workers and the mothers to some of the girls at the Zion Project live. The first thing I noticed was that in all actuality, it was cleaner than Gulu. Not nearly the amount of trash laying around. The children were outside and naturally curious at the arrival of our van. As we unloaded the van and assembled in the middle of the slum, a young boy caught my eye. He did not come up in the crowd initially, but he stood in front of his hut. Clutched in his little hands was a plastic white teaspoon. When he came over to check us out, he still held that teaspoon tightly in his hand, held to his chest. I realized that this tiny piece of plastic, as insignificant as it seemed to me, was this child's prized possession. I went through my pictures to see if I could find this little guy, but no such luck.
Kasubi, I think was I think one of the best parts of my trip. When we arrived, people began to assemble around us. One of the girls grabbed our drum and began the beat. We then danced and praised our God under a mango tree...in Africa! Afterward, the women began bringing couches out of the huts so that we would not have to sit on the ground...as they did. Then the girls each took a turn sharing their stories with us and telling us how God's love was so important to them. The girls were very proud of their children. They brought their babies for us to hold and to awwww over. I received quite the visual demonstration on how the copper bracelet kept Baby Joy from puking after breastfeeding (Use your own imagination here. Gestures are the universal language!) Baby Patrick christened my shirt with pee. The women straightened dresses and stuck the children in front of us for pictures to be taken.
Each wanted us to pray over their huts. They took us by the arm and led us around the slum, stopping when needed to share with us a story and ask for prayer. It was at Kasubi that I met Sarah, the young mother that had recently lost her three children.
I met Joseph at Kasubi as well. He looked to be about six, so I am sure that he was probably nine or so. Joseph came and stood next to me while I was sitting on the couch, listening. I felt his little hand touch my arm a few times before I really paid attention to what he was doing. Each time the wind blew dirt on my skin, he picked it off and cleaned my arm. When a seed fell in my hair, he picked it out. I took Joseph and sat him on my lap, where he settled in. His clothes were dirty and ragged, the back of his shirt was missing, and his skin was dirty. Yet, he spent his time making sure I was clean. His eyes were filled with a smile and his face was welcoming. He took my hand and walked with me for as long as he could before returning home. Joseph taught me a lesson in humility. To have so little, but to be willing to serve with what he did have...heart.
Today, I went to walk down to the basement to wash laundry. Laying in the middle of the stairwell was a metal teaspoon. Immediately, my mind shifted from the agenda that I was mulling over to my time under the mango tree. I am so thankful that God loves me enough to remind me of the little boy and his teaspoon, and how little it takes to really be happy. It isn't about what I don't have or how much I do have. It's all about God's love. I am thankful that as the little boy clutched that teaspoon with all his might, that God does the same for each of His children. Clutching us in his arms, close to his heart, telling us over and over that we are His prized possession...