Turning Dirt with a Teaspoon

When we first arrived in Jbay we went to a seminar on AIDS, because our leaders thought that it would be beneficial for our team, considering the number of people that we would come into contact with who were either HIV positive or were sick with AIDS.  The point of the seminar was to teach the community about AIDS, how to prevent it, and how to take care of children so they don’t get it.  Obviously this seminar was not directed towards white American missionaries, but I can’t seem to forget that night.  The speaker told us of a vision that God gave her.  In the vision she was in a vast field and she was turning dirt over with teaspoon.  This was literally how she felt about the work that she was doing here in Africa.  Each day of work felt as though she only made a teaspoon of change.  
    Thinking of turning over dirt with a teaspoon sounds really discouraging.  For some reason I have found myself in multiple situations here where I have had to take large piles of dirt and move them.  Moving dirt with a shovel and a wheel barrel is hard enough, so the thought of using teaspoon to accomplish the task sounds terrible.  On the walk home from Ithemba I often wonder if I really made an impact at all.  The kids will continue to hit each other, and have no respect for their elders.  Many of the kids will still be hungry until they come back to Ithemba the next day.  Many of the kids will still have on the same clothes that they did the day before, and the day before that.  I often feel like my work at Ithemba is not making a difference in the lives of the kids.  But today I realized that if I could impact one kid each day then maybe I am making a difference.  
       Lulu came in today and she seemed to have lost all of her energy.  There was bump on the side of her head and her braids were severely ripped at that spot.  As I asked her what was wrong she gave me a blank stare with very glassy eyes.  My heart hurt and panicked, wondering who could have hurt her.  After the stories I have heard about rape around here, I felt like crying at the idea that this little girl could have been raped.  She never responded to my questions but she did stay close to me for the rest of the day.  As I was getting ready to leave I heard someone call my name and I turned to see Lulu.  With all the energy she had left she gave me a smile and said that she would see me tomorrow.  I don’t know if I made an impact on her today, but I felt a trust that we did not have before.  Although she did not want to talk she knew that I cared.
    Lately I have felt really broken for the kids.  It’s hard to watch how they live their lives and how they are treated.  Kids have sex at the age of seven, and are drinking by the age of twelve.  Kids get beat and they laugh about it.  Although on the outside they act like life is great, I can’t help but cry for the pain in know they have inside.  One of the kids that I am closer to, Ronald, has come to Ithemba the past two days without this school clothes on.  This means that he has been ditching school for some unknown reason, that he did not want to share with me.  But what hurt me the most were the salty tear streaks that we running down his face yesterday.  His dad decided to beat the crap out of him because he didn’t go to school.  I don’t understand how that teaches him anything.  I understand that discipline is needed, and I have been spanked plenty of times to know that a spank helps.  But to see his face and how unloved he looked killed me.  Why are there so many kids who have parents that don’t really care about them?  I did discover that single mothers receive 200 rand for each child they have.  Many women take advantage of that, for their own benefit and forget about the children.  That is one of the many reasons that this next generation is angry and needy.