By: Whitney Saulton
“In everything, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ” Acts 20:35
I got out of bed and fumbled around in the darkness to get dressed for the day. I grabbed Bryan’s sweatshirt, since mine was somewhere buried beneath two weeks of scrubs in my clothes hamper. Reaching into my drawer, I grabbed a pair of socks from the pile. As I sat down to put them on, I couldn’t contain my happiness. “My lucky pizza socks!” I thought to myself. These weren’t any ordinary socks; they were MY pizza socks that I once won $300 while wearing. I happily wiggled my feet into the socks, more than certain that it was going to be a good day.
When we set off that morning at 6:30, we had planned to bring back just one baby that was suffering from malnutrition. I had no idea what that day had in store for me. It was a rainy, overcast morning after a night of torrential downpour. The rain here is always welcomed as a respite from the heat and to quench the thirst of the earth that was once dry and cracked beneath my feet. This area has been in the middle of a drought—the crops dying, animals dying, people dying. In the mountains, where we were heading, you could guarantee that the small dirt roads would make for a difficult day of travel as the rain had washed out sections of our trail and created deep, muddy ravines in the road.
When I stepped into the first mud puddle, I worried about the mud that seeped through my shoes staining my lucky pizza socks. However, our trip was just beginning and we had another mile and a half to walk uphill in the mud. When we arrived to the home of the mother and baby, we would be bringing back for care, we were mud covered and exhausted. When I stopped to look around and take in my surroundings, I became keenly aware of the needs in this village. There was no electricity, access to clean water was miles away, food was scarce, and I watch the baby shiver as his mama pulled him close to her. I wrapped him in a blanket and heard crying from the back of the house. Sure enough, there sat her other young son- shivering, swollen and starving. He needed help too. We brought them all.
As we walked back down the steep, slippery mountainside, a young girl who lived in a house in the village approached us. They had requested that we stop by because they knew we were in the area to help. The young 20 year-old girl explained the situation to me — The mother died 6 months ago from malnutrition. The father had left to go several hours away for work, as there was no work to be done in this area. She was caring for her older sister who was very ill. She wanted to help her, but was unable to leave, as she was also caring for several of her own children. I could hear her sister screaming from inside the home that was made out of sticks and plastic. My heart ached as I heard the desperation in her voice and saw the hopelessness in her brown eyes. Pushing aside the shredded plastic that acted as a door, she gestured for me to follow her to the back of the house. It almost felt like something out of a haunted house.. the inside of their house was pitch black, and every so often you could feel something hanging from the ceiling brushing against your face. The house was full of tattered plastic bags pieced together and acting as insulation for this small home. We continued through the home and as we got closer to the back, the screaming became louder.
There, on a makeshift bed made of sticks, we found 25 year-old Yolanda. I flipped the light on my phone and watched her eyes close tightly. When I opened her eyes, her pupils were as small as a pinpoint from spending weeks and maybe even months being hidden in the darkness. Her skin was swollen– her legs, her stomach, her cheeks, even her eyelids. She was shivering cold and only wearing a short sleeve, moldy dress. Her hair was matted with mud and crawling with lice. She had no blanket, no pillow, no shoes. She was filthy from lying in her own waste and screaming for her mama. I turned the flashlight around on myself so she could see me, and she began to laugh. I remember shutting my eyes and feeling my warm tears begin to well up. I bowed my head for a minute “My God. How can you let this happen? Where are you in moments like this!?”
I was frustrated, broken, and so sad. I didn’t have cell phone to call back to Hope of Life and ask if we could bring the girl. I also didn’t have the ability to leave without taking her with us. Knowing that something must be done urgently, I decided we would bring her anyway. I wrapped her up in Bryan’s favorite sweater and we carried her outside. When her feet touched the cold mud she began to shiver. I knew what I had to do—I had to offer up my lucky pizza socks. As sad as I was to remove them from my own feet, I can’t explain the joy I felt placing them on hers. She looked so much cuter in them anyway. I would have given my shoes too if they would have fit over her swollen feet.
To make a long story short, Yolanda ended up making the difficult journey back, and today, she is doing so well. (A lot of that is credited to the lucky pizza socks, and I’m sure also on behalf of our amazing doctors here at Hope of Life too!) I’m so proud of how far she has come.
Please don’t read this as me being some all-star mega generous, fantastic giver of things. I am so far from that. Just last week, I cried in public because the store we went to was out of chocobananas. Generosity is definitely something that I don’t always get right, so this challenge is just as much for me as it is for you. I don’t mean that I want you to buy the biggest and most expensive gift for your child or significant other. I challenge you to give beyond your comfort zone to those who need it most. Sometimes, giving to others is easy (i.e. when you offer up your husband’s sweatshirt) but I challenge each of you to instead give something that you highly value (lucky pizza socks). If you say you care about the poor, and definitely if you call yourself a Christian, then now is the time to rise up and make a difference. Like Yolanda, there are people in this world that are trapped in the darkness. Be the light in this dark world. Be givers. Be generous.
You are loved.
