Bummer 4/27/11

Sometimes you can see something in this world that just devastates
you. So many children here in Lassin have just been dumped here by one
or both of their parents to be taken care of by friends or family. I
don’t know how that really feels, but it must be awful for them.
Surely they’re thinking they aren’t good enough or that their parents
don’t love them. I hope they don’t think God’s like that too. Anyway,
that’s just one of the issues here. Another issue is somewhat related.
It must happen everywhere in the world. But it just breaks my heart.
About a week ago today, twin kids were born right in my compound. Not
the homosapien variety, but the goat variety. Baby goats are just the
cutest little things. Anyway, the mom ended up kind of taking one and
leaving the other. The kid that she bummed, called a bummer, didn’t
get discovered by the family until much later that day. Bummer. She
must have rejected it to begin with, I don’t know. But she definitely
wasn’t going to take it now.
I felt so bad for the little guy. He didn’t choose this life for
himself. He had no control over his situation. He was completely
helpless. The family wasn’t really doing anything about so I figured
it’d have to be me. If you don’t like the way something is, then do
something about it, right? So Wednesday night, on our way to church, I
stopped by the health center to see if they had any baby bottles.
Nope. I wondered how long he could last without food.
The next morning I stopped by John’s store and, wonder of wonders, he
sold bottles! I bought one and left some money with him to buy me some
cow’s milk. After school I came back to collect the milk. John bought
me about $1 worth (500 fr). This was way more than enough, over 1.5 L,
though I didn’t really know what I was doing. I immediately went up to
the Roses’ to heat some to feed the little guy. I didn’t realize
taking care of a baby animal was so difficult. Poor kiddo. So I
started [force]feeding him on Thursday afternoon about every 2-3
hours. I didn’t feed him at all in the night. Thankfully there was no
school the next day because of Good Friday, but Carol and I were going
to the next village to visit Julianna’s farm. Loco, a little girl in
my compound, was able to feed him twice in the late morning for me. I
came back from the farm in Binon and fed him again. It’s amazing how
much force you have to use to get ‘em to eat. Things had actually
gotten better but then they became worse. He didn’t seem to want to
eat. Then he had bloody diarrhea. I was sure he wouldn’t last too many
more days. Plus, who would continue buying milk and feeding him 6
times a day in just a few days when I leave?
The most precious thing happened on that Friday afternoon. Whenever I
tried holding little Kiddo, he’d just squirm around and cry. Then when
I put him down he’d go around to everyone and everything other than
the bottle and try bumping it for milk. So I picked him back up and we
finally find a comfortable position for one another. Then he fell
asleep on my shoulder. I want to cry right now just thinking about it.
He was just so helpless. I put him down a little while later in his
sleeping quarters and brought him an old pillowcase to lay on. When I
came back with the pillowcase, things didn’t really seem right with
him. He was just standing there awkwardly like he didn’t know where he
was. I laid him down on the pillowcase; later when I came by he was
asleep.
I don’t know if he died that night or the next morning. But Sabbath
morning, after I warmed some milk for him, I walked over to the house
and saw him lying lifeless outside the door. Everyone and their mother
around the compound were watching me, seeing what I’d do, I guess.
They all got a huge kick out of the goat’s new mother. I asked some of
the men sitting there, “The goat is finished?” “Yes,” they said.
“Okay.” I left. I left kind of kicking/laughing at myself for getting
to attached to Kiddo. I hope, though, that death, in any of its forms,
still makes us sad. Don’t let yourself be desensitized to all of it. I
know it’s our way of coping with the extreme sadness on Earth, but
it’s better to go to a funeral than a feast.
I can’t wait for heaven and the new earth, where there will be no more
death or pain or tears. All will be well there with our King.