We Meet a Little Grown Man

As I stated, it was not all without purpose. It never is, right?

In our quest to get the passport, Tom had to take us back to the orphanage where we had picked up Nettie. There were many errands that only Kim could do and obviously, poor Nettie just needed to rest. I took Nettie and propped her against my arm and the door so that she could lie down and nap. Kim went in and out of the car, doing the necessary things. Well, this lands us back to the rough road into Nettie's orphanage. And Tom doesn't know the way. As I mentioned before, there are few street signs so getting confused is easy to do.

Tom pulls up to a young boy on the street and asks him in Amharic where to go. The boy agrees to hop in and show us the way. The boys eyes seem a little lazy or just hard to focus. He does not smile. He casts a glance back to us without acknowledging our presence. He tells us to turn, then to turn again. We are closer, and yet still lost. The car door next to the boy opens a crack as the boy motions to get out but Tom stops him, telling him that once we are done, we will take him back where we picked him up. The boy agrees and reaffirms his place in the seat.

We finally make our way. Kim runs in to get the paperwork and I wait in the car with Nettie resting peacefully for now over and hour in my lap. I ask Tom to translate for me.

What is your name? How old are you? Do you live around here?

He was 12 years old, his name too hard to write or rember, and yes, he lived with his uncle.

What happened to your parents?

He lived in the country and his mom died from an eye disease, his dad from a stomach illness.
He works as a gardener for 3 meals a day and 50 birr a month (that is $5). With that money, he buys his education and his exercise book. He sleeps on the floor next to his Uncle's bed.

Are you happy?
The child has yet to make eye contact with me. He has yet to have any expression of emotion on his face. And still, as stoic as can be, he answers that if he lived in the country still, he would have no one and this is better than that.

Puddles form in my eyes. I verify with Tom, " He is not happy, is he?" Tom shakes his head and looks down, softly saying no.

The boy looks at me as I wipe the tears off my cheek as they roll down. I didn't want to cry before the children. I just could not help it this time. Kim returns to find me the mess that I am. I tell her about the boy and she places her hands on his shoulders as we drive back. She prays in silence over him and together, we agree to give cash to this boy. Kim pulls 100 birr from her belt and places it in his hand. This is two months wages for this boy. Likely the most he has ever received in one sum. He makes eye contact and nods in thanks. We tell him to hide the money as he gets out of the car at his original pick up point, and from there, we cry our way back toward the embassy.

I am sure I don't need to explain why we were so sad, but I will, in case it is only something understood by being there. This child is considered a success in Ethiopian culture. He is not begging. He is working, going to school, and has a place to go home to every night. The fact that the child is emotionally numb and bankrupt, that he works all day and then studies all night... that he knows no joy and even when given a great gift can not find a smile in his spirit... Wow... how very, very wrong. And yet, how can we not feel some what good for this boy because atleast he does sleep under a roof at night and get food every day. Many of the children around him have neither. It was simply too much to take in.