Monday one my little buddies, Henoke, hit his head on the pavement during recess.
Because of HIV, Henoke, like many of the children, have warts on their body, especially on their face. When he hit his head, one of the warts busted open, so we walked down to the clinic together to get bandaged up.
Since the new clinic officially opened on Saturday, many new patients in the community are being treated, so it took a while for him to be seen. As we waited in the lobby, Henoke intensely stared at the poor women from the community with their little children waiting across from us.
He sat next to me, completely still. His arms were tense. His lips were puckered out. His eyes were fixed. After about 20 minutes of this behavior, a single tear dripped from this left eye.
Henoke is a playful, silly child filled with energy and love. I have never seen this type of behavior from him, even when he was in a contained by himself in a lonely room suffering from the chickenpox. This precious little boy is probably only 3 or 4 years old, but he seemed to be pondering life’s harsh realities in that lobby. From his expressions, it seemed like his heart hurt because his mother was not available for him. He seems angry that other children had the protection and safety of a constant woman. Of course, this is just a vicarious observation, but his eyes sure did tell me a moving story. After the tear raced down his precious little checks, I picked him up and held him in my arms until he feel asleep, while another solemn tear rested in his eye.
After a bit more waiting, Teddy, one of the male nurses, took us back to a room, where, instead of just bandaging the wound, he decided it was best to remove the wart. I won’t bother you with bloody details, but I had to hold my sweet friend’s arms and legs down as he kicked and screamed during the whole process.
As we left the clinic, Henoke held on to my neck as if his life depended on it. I took him to lunch, and after a short time he relaxed a bit.
I am so proud of him for his bravery in the clinic, both as a patient and as an observer.
February 26, 2008 at 9:36 pm
what a beautiful child.
thank you for sharing your life with me, jruss. i love you.
February 27, 2008 at 1:12 pm
Jess,
You have such a gift of communicating – both on paper and with compassion. I am so thankful you are there for Henoke. It truly broke my heart to read of his pain and promised myself I’ll read your entries at home from now on. The worst is knowing he’s only one of many and we wonder why people grow up to be such angry adults. What a beautiful child!! Thank you for everything you’re doing, you’re my hero!!
February 27, 2008 at 1:52 pm
I hope you don’t mind, but I’m sharing your blog with others in my office. Do you remember Ruth Wormald? She’s going to be in Africa for two years after she finishes this next semester.