I lived in Kenya with my family for a few months when I was 5 years old, and again for one year when I was 12. Then as an "adult" I lived and worked there for another year after college (Chris was there for most of that year). I will always have a longing in my heart to go back. I have had 4 invitations/opportunities to return to Africa (Kenya and South Africa) fall through for various reasons in the last 4 years. One of those opportunities was going to be in a few weeks (and with my dad) but this pregnancy side-tracked that trip for me. Someday I will get back, someday...I am drawn into nostalgia by just about anything that reminds me of Kenya...eucalyptus trees, red soil, woven baskets, passion fruit juice, the smell of burning trash or tires (seriously), dangerous driving situations, and barefoot children with dusty dirty feet.
This weekend a person and a service opportunity helped connect me to a sweet time and place in my life.
On Saturday night a lovely Kenyan woman (Anne) who spoke to our MOPS group came over for dinner, along with another MOPS mom and her daughter. We talk and read about Africa a lot with our kids so it was really special to have a Kenyan woman in our home. Samantha promptly, and without prompting, got out all our African instruments and books about Kenya to show Anne. Anne enjoyed looking through the books and telling the kids about her beautiful country. In addition to the treat of getting to know Anne a little bit, the highlight of the night was the SAMOSAS that she made and brought to share. I probably had 7 that night, and shamelessly asked if she would leave the leftovers with us. She did. I won't even go into the hosting/cooking/tantrum disasters that made this NOT one of our best dinners, and instead try to remember the joy of talking about Kenya with Anne...and the samosas.
Then on Sunday I signed Samantha and I up for a food packing event hosted by Dream Dinners and promoted at my MOPS group. Friends & Family Community Connection organized an event where 32,000 meals were packed in a matter of a few hours. These meals will be going to San Diego, Haiti and Tanzania. I thought this event would be a great opportunity to do something tangible with Sam for a country in Africa. Well...her attention lasted for about 10 minutes of our 60 minute shift. Lucky for her she found two of her favorite celebrity-status-middle-school-girls from church and ditched me for them while I continued to scoop protein flakes into the small plastic bags. In my daughter's eyes I am totally not cooler than a middle school girl...and I am totally OK with that...as long as those middle school girls babysit.
On the drive home I definitely questioned the worth of what I had done bringing Sam to this event with me. Did this make any sort of impact on her? Would she ever remember this? Did she have a clue what was going on, really? I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but I did conclude that it was definitely worth it.
My daughter has an awareness of the world, and an interest in Africa because little by little, throughout her whole life, we have talked about the continent, we pray for this part of the world, and we have pictures, books, and "artifacts" from Kenya around our home. Africa is a normal part of our conversation in our family. I believe THAT is how I instill interest, value, and excitement for something in my children. I live it out naturally in front of, and with, them.
For me it comes down to this... If there is an opportunity to invite a Kenyan woman into our home, I will take it. If there is a chance to spend an hour packing food to go to Tanzania with my preschooler, I will sign up. If there is a news story about a country in Africa, I will draw their attention to it. If our church hands out Love Loaves from World Vision, we will participate. If Uncle Jeff or Papa have recently traveled somewhere in Africa for work, we will listen to their stories. And when an opportunity comes to take our family back to Kenya someday (please God, please!), we will go. All of this, after all, is exactly what my parents did with me.
Oh Africa, you have made an indelible mark on my heart.
And now my heart is to pass that mark on to my children.
