Okay, here's the deal. As most of you dear readers know, Lisa and I don't have kids. It never came up so we never went that route. It's never really been a big deal to either one of us . . . so there.
Still, I have recently faced the reality that being a Father or Grandfather is a door that has essentially closed and facts are facts. I will never experience the joys of being a parent (or the not so joyfull . . . ummmm, non-joys of being a parent). So I had to face that emotion, experience that emotion and ether kick that emotion's ass or get mine kicked. Actually, it was touch and go on who's ass was getting kicked for awhile there - but I eventually prevailed.
But (and there's always a big but isn't there), Lisa and I sponsor a child, Angillo Joseph. I first met Angillo in June of 2006 in Yei Sudan at the Harvester's Orphanage. I didn't pick him so much as he picked me. He was only a couple of years old at the time (if that) and he came up to me, reached out his little arms, wrapped them around my leg and marked me with his little snotty nose. Touching, yes? I wrote about it HERE
When I got back to Texas, Lisa and I talked about "sponsoring" him and decided that somehow we would be able to make do with $1 a day less so that we could send $30 a month to the orphanage to help provide for Angillo and the others. A real a big sacrifice on our part, right?
Over the next few years we would get a little card from Harvesters updating us about Angillo. There was always something specific about his attitude and what kind of little boy he was becoming. A year later I was back in the neighborhood one day (?) and was able to drop by for about ten minutes to see him as I was on my way to the airstrip to fly back to Nairobi. He was taking a nap but Mama Lilly woke him up and she took a picture of me and him. Of course, he had no idea who I was other than a strange white man holding him on his lap . . . and he's was still not quite awake. Here's that picture.
So a few weeks ago a large envelope arrives from Harvesters. I figure it's either a promotional flyer or some other sort of informational material.
When I opened it up there was a blue colored sheet of construction paper covered in crayon scribblings. It was from Angillo . . .
Here's a picture of it hanging on our fridge door.
I had put to rest the idea of not having a child and not being a father. That was a very selfish act on my part. Making a difference in a child's life isn't limited to being linked by biology or sometimes even by proximity. I may never see Angillo. If civil war returns to Sudan, as many think it will in the next few years, pretty much all bets are off. If not, Yei Sudan is still a long way from Texas.
But, I've been there twice. I have friends who would put me up for a couple of nights and I have a reason to care about what happens in Yei, Sudan beyond the abstract. There's a little boy sleeping in a dorm, eating in a kitchen, going to school and playing with his friends. I know his name. It's Angillo and he's put his mark on me . . .
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