a broken heart and runny noses

My heart was broken this week-27 times. You see, I go to the orphanage every Wednesday. We go during the day and visit with the children. The thing is the quote-unquote normal children are at school. So I play with the disabled children. There are younger children as well, but there are plenty of people lining up to hold babies in the baby room. I make a beeline for the ruckus raisers. Lately there has been just two of us, for the 27 kids in the room-the number fluctuates. It really does break my heart going to the orphanage. I can't really articulate it. I can't really make it real for you. There is just such a need for love. I know I wrote back in October or so, but it continues to be a huge part of my experience here. A huge part and its just 2 hours a week. I Think about these kids all throughout the week, hoping that they know they are loved even though they get little attention, little interaction. I hadn't been for a while because I was out of town. When I got back there a handful of new kids. A autistic boy, a downes boy, and a few others. They are so much fun, they desire to be picked up and twirled around. To take a ride around the room on your back like they are actually flying in the air. To be shown attention, affection, and care. It can be challenging. Just an example...A kid wrapped his arms around my neck to be picked up this week and as I hoisted him up into my arms I could just smell his drooled on coat. Drool that's been accumulating on a coat for who knows how long is no gentle smell. I would go as far to say its abrasive, thus the tears that came to my eyes. But it doesn't matter, because whay can he do about it? All he knows is that now that he's in my arms, he in for something EPIC, even if it is just a trip that winds through beds and around tables and chairs.

There is this little girl there. Maybe four, probably five though (they look so much younger than they are). She can't talk. I really have no idea why. But if you hold her and sing to her she will kind of hum with you. And when you hold her she just rests so peacefully in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder, as if she is saying, everything is ok. But it's only for a moment-I doubt she gets picked up again until we come again. My heart was broken as I held her this week and looked around the room at all of the children. There was no way I could show them they are loved. I try, we try. We bounce from one to the other to the other, trying to give them all attention, to hold them, to help them color, to lift them to up so they can touch the ceiling and for a moment forget that they even though they are ten years old can't even stand straight enough or high enough to open the door. They are all loved. And I try and show them that, but it seems impossible. Even as orphans I Hope they know they have a Father who loves them.