May 4

I continued up the rocky path carrying a baby in my arms. Arms shaking and drenched in sweat, I wondered if it was because of my excess arm fat or if it was possible that the baby was growing larger and heavier by the minute. Kids swarmed around Tarynn and I, with as much energy as one could possibly have climbing a mountain. I imagined them trekking up the path in the pouring rain and on days where the sun is unbearably strong. Unlike my spoiled ways, these kids don‘t have a bus to take them home. We finally arrived at the first house and we met the mom of Leila, Paola, Wualdina, and Oscarito. The house was made out of mud and sticks, but she still invited us to sit on the stool she set out for us. Her and all of the other families were all happy to see us and welcomed us to sit down and to see their houses. They all lived very close to each other and so the kids would follow us to each person’s house. Seeing the families of the children reminded me of what these kids have to go to at the end of the day. Sometimes I forget that these kids don’t have very much. When I see them at the Infa, I don‘t think about how they may be going hungry at home or how they may be sleeping in dirt or how their house may be flooding in the pouring rain. I only see them laughing and playing together. If these poor children can laugh and play with the little that they have, why is it sometimes very difficult for me to be happy and content with all that I have?