Who's on first? The catcher.

The last trip I took to Timau, I thought it would be a great idea to teach the kids how to play the game of baseball. A kind man from Kansas City donated some bats, balls, helmets, and catchers gear. While packing my over-sized suitcase I slowly realized that it may be a bit difficult to lug this around Africa and could have been smarter to just bring some soccer balls. Or how about teaching them flag football? Too late.

First Baseman

I really didn't think about the challenges. I set up the bases and thought it would be quite simple. After I explained the game, I thought we should be good to go. Well, we had quite a few issues: they would hit the ball and run past the base out into the field or just run around the bases over and over and everyone would just laugh or not understanding what "out" meant. After a few days of playing, I felt like they finally got it. They looked like a MLB team, well, except for the fact that most were barefoot and our bases we sticks in the ground. But they got the rules for the most part.

3 guys playing 2nd base, pitcher with batter's helmet

During this trip the kids were so excited to play baseball again. They got out all their gear and set up all proud to show that they could play the game. They had made a few minor changes: 1) The pitcher wore the batting helmet. 2) The first baseman wore the catcher's gear. (I assume someone got hit with a ball on first base and decided it was a better position for protection.) 3) They had 2-3 players at each base, just in case someone made an error. It was my favorite baseball game of all time.

You are not a ghost

 
34 children, 4 mud huts, and a wealth of love. We are in Naibor, Kenya. The kids are starting to grow up. Four years ago I heard them talk about what they wanted to be when they grow up. Now, thanks to the HALO Hero scholarship, the older ones are starting to reach those dreams.

During this visit, we have listened to many of the kids open up about their lives before the home and their dreams for the future. One of the older kids named Moses had such a compelling story. He shared that when he lived on the streets he felt like a ghost when he would approach people to beg for food. People would just look past him as if he wasn’t there. My heart broke when I heard that. He also shared about how he was jealous of other kids walking by in their uniforms on their way to school.

He explained his favorite day when our orphanage director saw him on the streets and invited him to a probationary stay at the HALO Home. After 2 weeks of good behavior, Moses was taken to a school to enroll. He is now trying to finish primary school and apply for a scholarship to become a mechanic.

Moses is very behind in school for his age, which is a common issue for street children. I cannot begin to imagine how that must feel. The mentors at the home were telling me many of the kids struggle with being the oldest in their class. The other kids make fun of them, calling them JaJa (which means Grandpa). The good thing is, Moses and most of the others are resilient because of their difficult pasts. They have slept on the streets with strangers, been taken advantage of, spent days hungry, and felt like ghosts. Being made fun of in school is not the end of the world for them.

When they enter the home the first step is to help them look past survival level.. Gaining their trust is next – they have to trust that we won’t abandon them, we will always be here, and that we love them as if they were our own. Helping them see their bright future after so many trials is essential for their success. If they are able to commit to that vision and trust that we will provide for them, they are able to push on and look toward their future of being able to provide for their families.

I cannot thank our HALO Heroes enough. These scholarships have had such a direct impact on the lives of HALO supported children like Moses.

Tiptoeing in Timau

It reminded me of that scene on Wizard of Oz when the house first lands in Oz and Dorothy tiptoes out of her house. First she hears the laughter of the munchkins followed by their little heads popping out around her. When we arrived at the HALO home in Timau, Kenya the boys were scattered about and one by one they would peek out, slowly come to greet us, shyly smiling and giggling.This is the good stuff. Its why we work so hard.


 Timau has limited electricity, no running water, and an outdoor kitchen that consists of a fire and a few pots. Staying there is much like camping with a huge family.

The boys at this home are extremely close, sharing similar trials and grief. In all my time staying there I have never seen a fight between them. When it is time to eat, they serve one another. When someone drops something, someone else picks it up. The big boys look out for the little ones. Its absolutely beautiful. I asked Benson, one of the Mentors at the home how it is that the boys have become this way. He said "Because they are brothers. They love each other. They care for each other. They only have each other. They are brothers."


I cannot wait to share the stories of success from this home when I return. They are growing up so quickly, many going to vocational school now... going to be contributing members of their communities. I am so proud of them and so grateful for everyone who makes this happen.