I had two but I gave one away.
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I had two but one died.
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I spent this weekend in the village where our organization's second center is. We did some kids programs, visited some families, and built a well. There was one family living in a shack who we visited. A sweet toddler boy ran around, pretending to be shy while also begging to play. I asked the mother how many kids she had. "I had two, but I gave one away", she responded nonchalantly. Kind of like she was telling us the milk spoiled so she had to toss it. The conversation continued as if nothing important had been said, giving away a child is not so uncommon here. Even though we all know many children given away become slaves, working in brothels or as beggars.
I kept looking in her eyes, standing next to her and trying to sense some emotion. Did she miss her child? Did she feel remorse for letting that baby go? Was this nonchalant attitude a defense for an ashamed heart, or did she really not care?
As I knelt down to play with the toddler, her remaining child, she told him "why don't you go with the pretty foreigner, maybe she will take you home." People have offered their children to me countless times, of course I never accept. But this time I wondered how she would have reacted if I did. Would she have been surprised? Would she have even cried while she said goodbye to her child for the last time? Or had she become too numb to care?
The next day we came to a second village to build a well. I sat with a beautiful girl, she was younger than me and 7 months pregnant. I asked how many kids she had. She replied that the one she was carrying was her second. I asked where the first was. With averted eyes she responded that the first had died a week after being born. Her eyes were full of sadness and shame, she rubbed her full belly seeking a little bit of hope. In a culture where negative emotions are kept behind locked doors, she was brave enough to hold the sadness of her lost baby girl.
I couldn't help but compare these two women.
One a teenage girl grieving the child taken from her, and hoping beyond hope that she could care for this new child.
The other, an older mother asking that her child be taken from her, and willing to send the second child down the same path as the first.
There's something about the contrast of the two stories. Both women no longer have their first child and instead hold their second.
One holds the second child with optimism and admiration, the other as a reminder of what she has already given up on.
One with a soft heart- holding hope and suffering in her arms. The other with a hard heart- trying to keep the suffering at arms length.
It makes me wonder how much we lose because we have already given up.
