Thursday, October 29, 2015

My journey SOUTH.

     It was the first time I had been below the the southern hemisphere. It was full of new sights, new friends, and new experiences. That remarkable journey took place five months ago, during their winter, in a place called South Africa.
     I didn't just sign up to go on this adventure randomly though, it all started back home, in the small church that I have been going to for all my life. My cousin, Sara, had taken a church group two summers ago and she was offering to go with another group. So, a few months later, after a good amount of praying, me and my twin sister and a bunch of friends boarded a 20-something hour flight to the country of South Africa (with a delightful stop in Heathrow, London airport).
     There are many delightful memories that were made in the two weeks we spent there. I couldn't possibly write about all of them. I met children that made me laugh, care workers who told uplifting tales, and other missionaries who made me feel right at home who had a bottomless supply of love.
     During the trip we had some oppurtunities to walk to some of the childrens' homes, they were called Holy Home Visits. We would have a chance to pray with the family and they would tell us a bit about what they were going through.  Me and a friend, Diana, and the pastor of my church were able to visit a mother who had two young sons. she had a few odd jobs that she did, but nothing that was regularly supplying her with money. The family lives on a rented piece of land, with a shack as their home. The father of the two boys was a logger, and had abandoned his family. In South Africa if there is no supporter then you get a set amount of money to help with school costs and food. The man who owned the property would recieve the money, take the rental money out of it, and then pass the rest to the family (which at that point wasn't that much).
During this conversation the mother told one of the boys to get some drink for us. The older boy, Prince, ran into the shack and came out with three tall glasses and a tall bottle of soda. I remember being so touched by this selfless act. The family has so little, but was willing to give up their soda, to complete strangers. We said our thanks and drank up. Needless to say, it was the best soda I'd ever tasted. We walked the kids to  the care point after that and we all sang on our way. It was great to see the boys were so happy. That memory will always stick with me. Period.
     If there are any other questions, or more stories that you want to hear, you can leave a comment below. You could leave a comment just for fun too. You just had to be there to experience everything that happened to all of us. It was definitely a life-changing experience for me, and I'm sure for the others also.

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