The Rusty Nail

Today was a special day.  After saying goodbye to my eMi team (the presentation went super well, I’ll write a post on that later), I headed off to a small village in rural Uganda to visit my Compassion International sponsor child.  

 Still trying to figure out what this sign means?

I have met Esther once before, three years ago.  Since she is 20 years old now and will be transitioning out of the Compassion program in the next 1-2 years, I wanted to pay her a visit this time.  It was so very meaningful.  After arriving at the Compassion project in a village called Makindu, Esther arrived to meet me.  She looked so happy and so beautiful. Her and I, we have been writing letters and sharing our hearts with each other for the last 12 years.  We sat and talked for a bit, had breakfast (even though I had already had breakfast).  Although I usually would adore having second breakfast, I knew that we were going to be having a feast in a couple hours at Esther’s house, so I didn’t want to eat too much.  After touring the Compassion project, and finding out that the staff and I knew a mutual person in Jinja (how crazy is that?), we headed off.  The project director announced that Esther wanted to buy me a present.  After I had heard about how she has been putting her meager savings away for a sewing machine (she has been taking tailoring at vocational school) in order to start a small business to support herself, I felt guilty about accepting any type of gift, but knew it would be very offensive to refuse.  We went to the market where she bought me a bolt of African cloth that I can have made into a skirt or anything else I choose to.  It is beautiful material and I feel so privileged to receive such a gift.

While we were looking for a place to buy material, we went down to the “landing stage” where they bring fish in.  It was so very African, and the fact that we were a full hour late, and the project director still wanted to show me around made it even more African.  But I decided not to let the lapse of schedule bother me, and immensely enjoyed walking around and seeing where they bring the fish in to land and then where they are then weighed, sold, and shipped all over Uganda.  Some of those fish are so huge! And I was definitely the only white girl for as far as the eye could see.

 Boats in the water

Boat Construction

 The fish

After the fishy experience, we then travelled on some very sketchy roads to reach Esther’s Aunt and Uncle’s house.  Although she now lives with her brother, she grew up with her Aunt and Uncle and this is the house where I had gone to visit her last time. Her Aunt was so excited to see me and came dancing out of the house and making loud noises to show her joy.  After greeting everyone, we went inside, and to my great surprise, there on the wall hung by a rusty nail was an old Polaroid of me at 17 years of age.  A picture I didn’t even remember sending Esther so many years ago, but faded and worn, there it was.  A rusty nail hangs my picture hangs my picture on the wall of a brick hut in a remote African village. Rusty nails hung Love on a cross. I felt my heart split right open in that moment.  And then I looked across and also hung on the wall was a photo that I had sent to Esther of me with her family the last time I had visited. The kind words her family spoke to me, the depth of meaning of the time I spent with them is something I will not soon forget. I just felt so welcomed and loved right there in the middle of all that. While we were eating lunch, villagers stopped by to catch a glimpse of me, and Esther’s Grandma proudly showed them all several photos of my last visit there (again pictures I had sent).  The project director told me that the whole village knows who I am and thanked me not only for making such a difference in Esther’s life, but also in the lives of all the villagers through her.

Is that actually me?

As I sat down with Esther, she showed me what she had been learning in tailoring school, and then brought out a photo album I had given her the last time I visited. Inside was several letters I had written her over the years. She flipped through the photos and at a photo of me and my Mom looked at me and said “that is your Mom” and then the same with a photo of me and my Dad.  It was a little surreal to be sitting there inside a small brick hut and looking at pictures of me and my friends in Brandon smiling back at me from our camping trip this summer.

If I want to leave you with this.  Don’t ever underestimate the significance of building into someone’s life, whether that is a child in rural Uganda or your next door neighbour. One rusty nail might just change a whole village.

 Esther's Aunt greets me.

 Greeting Esther's Aunt in the house.

 Greeting Esther's Jjaja (Grandma)

 Esther shows me the album I gave her last time I visited.

 Esther's Graduation picture.  Brandon friends- can you identify yourself from our Northern camping trip in the photo I'm holding?

 Looking at Esther's school work.

 I love this girl.