Team Highlights from a day with the Kids
Katie—”I liked giving the littlest girl a bath. Rikki loved the water, splashing every which way and soaking up attention like a sponge.”
Jen “My favorite part was doing their hair. I loved using a skill that I already have to serve them. God has given me a gift that God to serve the outcasts of society.”
P.D.—”The best and hardest part of the day was throwing the kids into the air! They loved it, and never wanted to stop. Their faces were so excited. They loved being held but by the end of the day, my back hurt so bad!”
Paul—”My favorite was the boy Shanka. He was playing the hand clapping game with me. We’d go faster and faster until one of us messed up. It was so hard to see them leave. Like, we’d done something useful and needed, yes, but at the end of the day they had to go back to where they came from.”
Areli—”I loved to see the smiles on their faces. It was great to see them so happy. The hard part was the lack of communication. I couldn’t understand a thing! I didn’t know what they were telling me while smiling so broadly, and I didn’t know what they were crying about.”
Hattie—”My favorite was that we couldn’t speak their language. It was funny and fun trying to figure out what they were saying. It helped me learn to communicate in a child-like way with gestures and facial expressions. I was pretty nervous beforehand but it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.”
Abe—”My highlight? Just seeing them. They were so much happier than I thought they would be.”
Matt—”Everything. From beginning to end the kids were nonstop happy. It was hard knowing that they had to go back to the streets.”
Travis—I liked drawing with them, or anything hands-on. I learned how to ask their names.”
Rynn—”My favorite thing was watching them dance! They are amazing dancers! Even the little three year old was busting moves that most teens I know are incapable of. I would spend a week on the streets just to have them teach me how to dance like that…The hard part was watching them go. I hated to see their faces as they drove away. I knew they were going straight back into the same situation.”
Some of the kids decided to take advantage of the fact that I only knew English, and played a little joke on me.
“Geddi, geddi.” A little girl tugged on my scarf urgently.
“I don’t understand you,” I told her apologetically.
“Geddi!” She insisted.
I caught the attention of Siddharth, one of the Indian helpers. “What does geddi mean?” I asked.
He looked at me, and shook his head with a laugh. “It means underwear,” he said.
The children crowed with delight over their new joke at my expense.