Charis Around
The World
Tidbits From Ebony
Women and Children of Candybar
Since I arrived in Candybar, I have been paying special attention to
the children I am able to peek out at from under the tiny holes in
my “chadari” (big veil). As I ride down the bumpy, dirt roads in the
back seat (women always sit in the back), I observe the little
Pushpin people of my neighborhood and pray for a different kind of
life for them than their parents have experienced.
In watching the behavior of the children here, I have been deeply
burdened for them on occasion. At other times, I’ve been deeply
delighted in them! During the recent Cousin holiday in December, I
saw hordes of children in the streets. Most of them were completely
filthy—some had only been playing in the dirt, but some had been
playing in rubbish piles and even sewage gutters. I saw little girls
walking together along the courtyard walls--heads covered with
scarves, arms covered with bangles, bright green and pink sequined
skirts to swish around their ankles and bare feet. I saw boys
playing “King of the Hill” on dirt piles. Other boys were swinging
and some were even squatting with pants down right beside our car.
Sometimes when we drive, the boys like to yell at our car, jump in
front of us or bang on the windows. I want to give them the benefit
of the doubt and call it “playing around,” but, the truth is, that
sometimes, especially with older boys, it feels like an expression
of aggression towards the foreigners in the neighborhood—us.
Children here are definitely full of aggression here. They have
grown up in a land of war, have often been beaten by mothers and
fathers and are called “Satan” when they misbehave.
Recently, on another ride about town, I saw boys playing some sort
of Pushpin version of “Cowboys and Indians.” This version was much
more disturbing. The boys had toy replicas of serious fire arms such
as AK47s and the like. They were marching each other down the street
with the guns pointed in the backs and to the heads of the
“prisoners of war.” Their posture seemed less like a game and more
like what we see on CNN. The “game” seemed so out of place when
placed with tiny, pudgy hands belonging to seven or eight year olds
with innocent eyes and smooth, round cheeks.
On the other hand, I have interacted with some precious children
recently. They ALL have runny noses at this time of year, but I
still can’t resist kissing their little faces and holding them close
to me to try to warm them up a bit. One little boy is just
fascinated with me. Whenever I visit the home of his relatives, he
follows me around and sits right next to me. He gives me big hugs
and helps me learn important sentences in the Pushpin language.
Sentences like: “I don’t like scorpions.” He is precious. He is
ten years old and, once he reaches thirteen, he will only be allowed
to shake my hand and smile at me from a distance. A few years after
that and he will not likely be allowed to see my face anymore. I am
enjoying all I can get of him for now!
I have a friend who is a nurse and she and I were talking about women and childbirth in
Ebony. I mentioned that I had heard about a woman in Candybar who
had recently given birth to conjoined twins who were connected from
the chin to the waist. We talked about that situation and other
kinds of births this lady has seen over the years. We talked about
the many horribly deformed still births that occur because of the
malnourishment of the mothers. We talked about babies who are born
with extremely painful skin conditions, like little Lawangga, due to
the fact that women are often married off without choice to first
cousins with too many genetic similarities.
After talking for a few minutes about these things, the nurse looked
me in my eyes and said, “Elizabeth, now that you know about these
things that occur in this country, how do you plan to pray?”
My first, very lame response was a wide-eyed, “I don’t know.”
The nurse’s face softened and she explained, “What will you pray for
these women you will grow to love and the lives they carry within
them? Knowing you can not change every circumstance, and you may see
horrible things, what do you have left? What can you pray?”
These were rhetorical questions because she continued to explain,
“You will pray for God to overcome, to have mercy, on the ignorance
of this land. You will pray for health and for nourishment. You will
pray that every nutrient available reaches that little baby, and
that every cell will connect and build upon itself in the proper
way. You will pray for life and for health and for the goodness of
God to be known here.”
It all sounds pretty obvious to me now, as I type it out, but it was
a tremendous moment for me. This is someone who has lived here and
lived through these things and she is sharing with me her deepest,
most important secret of success: prayer.
Obviously, I believe that, to be an effective women’s health care
professional, I need to diligently study and learn the knowledge and
skill required. But before and behind my finite knowledge and skill
will always remain the infinite wisdom and knowledge of God. And He
will remain the source of HOPE in situations that seem hopeless.
Please pray for the women and children of Candybar.
All my love,
Elizabeth Carmichael
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Our International Charis
Family
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Thanks, Love and Blessings to every one of you!
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