The Kids
.
Its beginning to hurt a bit. As we count down the days to our departure, we are wondering about the inevitable goodbyes just down the road. We are missing our friends already. We are missing the children most of all. There are so many kids we have laughed and argued with, sat with, conked, hugged, teased, taught and bandaged. Some saw us first as curiosities, then as potential sources of goodies, but now there is something more, something much deeper. Renita and I see a handful of them almost as if they are ours. We know several of them see us more often than either of their parents, and depend on us for guidance and a sense of stability. We did not seek these bonds intentionally, and we hope that bonding will be worth more than the pain we will all feel upon parting.
Here are just a few of them-- "The Kids in Liberia." Some are forever a part of us, some we met in passing. We have hundreds of images of Liberia's children—we could have selected many more. Look closely. Each face is a brushstroke in the Liberian Portrait. Each is different, and each reveals something of the Face of God.
.
Its beginning to hurt a bit. As we count down the days to our departure, we are wondering about the inevitable goodbyes just down the road. We are missing our friends already. We are missing the children most of all. There are so many kids we have laughed and argued with, sat with, conked, hugged, teased, taught and bandaged. Some saw us first as curiosities, then as potential sources of goodies, but now there is something more, something much deeper. Renita and I see a handful of them almost as if they are ours. We know several of them see us more often than either of their parents, and depend on us for guidance and a sense of stability. We did not seek these bonds intentionally, and we hope that bonding will be worth more than the pain we will all feel upon parting.
Here are just a few of them-- "The Kids in Liberia." Some are forever a part of us, some we met in passing. We have hundreds of images of Liberia's children—we could have selected many more. Look closely. Each face is a brushstroke in the Liberian Portrait. Each is different, and each reveals something of the Face of God.
The Children of Gbaye's Town...