Pen and Paper

How many pens do you have in your house? I have no idea the answer to that question, and in my house, I am guessing I have an infinite amount. As I am sitting at the computer, there is a purple one on the desk--just a second, let me check on the location of some other ones.

I looked for the last 1 and a half minutes, and I found one by the window seat, one in the coffee table drawer, 9 in the drawer where I keep the phone books/bills/everything else I don't know what to do with, 1 by the phone. That is not even mentioning the pens that I have that are actually where they are supposed to be--the junk bin.

So, I found 12 pens in two rooms of my house--like I said, it would be an infinite amount. Especially since I didn't check the couch cushions or under the sofas or chairs!

I am talking about pens because I have so many, and I have never given them a second thought--that is until I went to Kenya.

My friend Carrie brought pens and pads of paper for the kids to draw on. At the celebration day at Vipingo, many of us spent hours with the kids while they drew a picture with a pen! It was a big deal for them. Can you imagine spending time with kids in the States, and expecting them to care whether or not they could use a pen or not?

I had three pads of paper--three pens and 30 kids, from 2 years old to 20 years, all waiting to take a turn. After they drew their picture, I had them write their name and then I took a picture of them with their creation.

I will keep those pads of paper always, because for me they show such potential and promise. Each drawing is unique. The flowers that Lillian and Snumu drew speak of hope. This is a picture of Snumu and her flower--she wants to be a news broadcaster!

This is Lillian--followed by a letter that she wrote to me. I do believe the letter explains the look in her eyes, and it broke my heart.

This little girl couldn't have been more than three years old, but she had the attention span of a college student. Look at all those flower and all those "e's"! She worked on those for 45 minutes-filling up two pages-maybe not wanting to relinquish the pen. She was a twin and her sister was dressed the same. Check out her doll--it was the only toy I remember any of the children from the villages having. It had no arms or legs, but she clung to it as if it meant everything to her.

Stephen tried to act all tough--but he wanted to draw--but maybe it was more about being noticed and recognized as someone special.

I probably have 50 pictures of the kids with their art work. As I was taking the pictures, I knew it was important. Not sure why--maybe it was to send a message to each one--"You are valued and special--and you have a hope and a future." The message might have been for me because as I look at each photo their personalities and actions come flooding back--and as I look at the photos, I can zoom into the picture, and pray for them by name.