During that first visit, I was shocked to see how few middle-aged adults were still living. Then stricken to learn that only one in ten children will live to be 35 years old.
The statistics were blows to my way of thinking. Over 11% of the homesteads are led by children. The parents aren’t at work. They’re not out of town for the weekend. They’re dead. And the children fend for themselves.
That number doesn’t take into account the children who are living with relatives who don’t want them. Aunts and uncles who are already struggling to feed their own children. Grandmothers, called gogos, who feel life had paid a dirty trick on them, for after raising their own children and expecting to be cared for in old age, they are now raising several grandchildren while grieving for lost sons and daughters. Often they’re trying to keep sick children alive with little food or medicine.
Incidences of child trafficking have skyrocketed. Vulnerable children are kidnapped on their way to school or while carrying water. They’re forced into hard labor or sold to the sex trade. As much as that breaks my heart, I’ve been tormented even more over children who have so little self-worh that they willingly sell their bodies for one ride on the school bus.
To make a nearly hopeless situation even worse, there is much misinformation about how AIDS is spread. One myth says that having sex with a virgin will cure the AIDS, so this adds to the number of children who are raped as they cross a field on the way home from school.
The need is overwhelming, and over time I found myself tempted to think we’d never make a dent.
Then I met Angel Khoza. Her father is deceased, and there is no information available on her mother. She’s living with her grandmother, who is raising many other grandchildren. But Angel smiled at me and totally melted my heart. After returning home, she was in my thoughts and prayers often. So when I went back to Swaziland this year, I searched for her in the crowds of children at the squatter’s camp.
Sure enough, when she arrived, she made her way over to me for a big hug. I teased, “I know you! What’s your name?” After a two year absence, I wanted to be sure I really had the right child since they change so much.
She replied with a shy smile, “Angel.”
I pretended to be shocked, as though I were meeting a movie star or famous politician as I asked, “Angel Khoza?” Her mouth flew open, she squealed in delight, and she threw her arms around me in a huge hug as she propelling herself onto me. She was amazed that I really knew her. She stayed by my side for the entire visit, joyfully beaming and nearly knocking me over with continual hugs.
I couldn’t help but think that if this were the only reason I returned to Africa, it would be worth the trip. Angel needed to know she was much more than just one more face in the crowd of needy children. She is known. Important. Cherished. Valued. Loved.
And as much as I remember her, how much more does our heavenly Father know and love her?
God sees all the children the same way I see little Angel. He is filled with the joy of knowing them individually. He sees calling. He sees potential. And He sees a plan to connect many of His people with these hurting children so they will also know they’re loved.
He made my job clear on that first visit, and He didn’t even have to send an archangel with the message. He wasn’t calling me to move to Africa, but rather to share the plight of these kids with my American brothers and sisters. And while we aren’t exactly “angels,” He still wants to use some of us to share His message of love.
Together, we’re making a difference. Over 50 children are attending school, eating regular meals, and receiving God’s love because of our partners. Children sponsorship is only $25 a month. Won’t you ask Him if He’s calling you to be His hands and feet to His precious children in Swaziland and Mozambique?
Yes, I believe in angels. I believe in all the “Angels” in this world. And I believe in the special messengers of love who will join hands with us at Grand Staff Ministries so we can make a difference.
by Becky Spencer, 8/31/10
