Earlier this week we told you about Clara and her sponsor Stephanie. We also wanted to show you this essay which was written by Stephanie’s daughter, Rebecca. Rebecca is a junior at Southlake Carroll High School and has come to Zambia with her family over the past three summers. She wrote this essay as a reflection back on her experience with Camp LIFE.
The crisp morning air chilled my face as I stepped off the plane, and sudden impulses of excitement and fear ran through my body as I read the sign “Welcome to Zambia”. After twenty-four hours of cramped legs and reruns of “Friends” on the flight, we had arrived in Africa. Through both the events preceding the trip and the trip itself, I came to the conclusion that struggles, no matter how large in stature, do not have to end in brokenness.
The tumultuous topic of orphans once threatened to tear my family apart, with my mom unwilling to surrender the idea of adopting a Chinese baby and the rest of my family unwilling to surrender our opposition to the proposal. Resentment built daily, and the subject was often close behind our superficial pleasantry. It was not until one night a war was started with the quiet whisper, “We could name her Kylie Grace.” In the course of several emotional hours, we came to the resolution that each family member could sacrifice a summer activity in order to send our mom on a mission trip to serve orphans. The treaty was signed and my mother was committed to serve in Zambia within twenty-four hours. Within another twenty-four hours the rest of my family also commenced to sign up. Her passion for orphans influenced the rest of us and kindled a fire within our family to bring love and service to those in need. The excitement we showed was an outward manifestation of the joy that had been restored in the inherent relationships of my family and proved that conflicts do not have to preface misery.
In the duration of my trip, the desolation and the extreme depth of poverty present in Zambia were so apparent in each of the orphan’s empty eyes and their malnourished bodies. The plight of the orphan is often forgotten, their desperate call for help is faint at best. The stark images of six-year-old children cast aside to a street corner, with no one to care for them, are forever ingrained in my head. Their dry, calloused feet and tattered clothes are pictures not easily dissipated, and ones I never want to forget. These children live in a world where hope cannot be uttered from their lips because, for them, it is not tangible. Their struggles and desperation seem eminent, but by simply imparting acts of compassion upon them, life and hope began to shimmer in their eyes.
A common question asked upon our return was: “Did your trip make you appreciate your possessions more?” With a bewildered shake of my head the answer was simple. No. I did not come to the realization that my material possessions were more valuable, this trip was not about material things. Instead I came to the realization that life is not measured by monetary or social statuses but in the life you can bring to others. Without notice to the caliber of a struggle, it is our obligation as a nation and as individuals to reach out and help the destitute, and to turn our attention from “Gossip Girl” or “Grey’s Anatomy” to the needs of our fellow man.