Wednesday, September 7, 2011

A Sad Song has no Ending

As I sit here writing this from my comfortable house in California, nice things surround me that I went without in Thailand. I now have a bed. And a mattress. I have a light near me I can turn on and off. I have nice clothes that don't get worn often, filling up a closest with plastic and metal hangers. I have a desk with which to do important type things and a bookshelf to keep important sounding books. Around the house is my car, which I am told is also nice.

All of these things are comfortable and nice. They are things I have not had in quite some time. Some are things I thought necessary. Others helped me feel important. None compare to what I had in Thailand.

I always hear authoritative-type people say "The heart grows fonder with time" (or is it "distance"). I hope this is not the case. Because I don't think my heart can handle anymore where Thailand is concerned. 'I apologize', I would say to my the feeling side of myself, 'but my heart is filled to capacity. There is no room.'

The room is taken up, as room usually is in the heart, by people. Specifically, by the little people I left behind.  You see, Thailand did something to me. I call it 'my obsession' but perhaps it is more aptly called 'my addiction'.

My obsession is like this: I love the kids at DEPDC.
                                        I love serving them.
                                        I love seeing their warm smiles.
                                        I love teaching them.
                                        I love waking up each morning knowing I have so much to look forward to. 
                                        I love the hugs. 
                                       And the laughter. 
                                       I even love the classroom noise. 

My heart breaks to know that they probably will not get the same chances I had.
It breaks more when I wonder what will happen to them.
Does the past truly determine our future? Will it for these kids?
They have already had hard lives. And they are so young.
Will this be their lot in life?

Most of the time I don't think about these things. It is just too dang hard. Instead, I reflect on the possibility of what might be, in the picture I create of their future lives.
I imagine them in charmed lives.
Lives filled with love, health, and safety.
They are graduates of school.
And fathers and mothers in their own right.
Who can provide for their family.
And teach their children.
And keep them safe.
And free from preventable diseases.

This is what I hope and pray for them.

I also pray that my disappearance will not cause them pain.
That they will get a new teacher (right now they don't have one).
That this teacher will understand what is at stake.
What is at stake?
Only a life.

Her life.

His life.

That's it, really.

The question is, what can we do for them? 
Happily, this is a question I have an answer for.

You can donate money. (this way is tax-deductible)

You can donate your time.

If you are interested in volunteering at DEPDC, contact me by email.
You could be their next teacher.

Help DEPDC help them. 


jamie lynne said...

goosebumps all over right now. love the post. miss you. miss these kids more than anything.
you did so so much over the last four months, kryssy ! so proud of all your hard work && so thankful that i got to be by your side for the majority of it <3
love you !

Rachel said...

chills and tears. I miss these little ones more than words. your words truly are inspirational, and i'm so glad we got to watch them grow together. proud of you, and proud of the person you helped each one of those kids become. love you.