She rests her heavy head on the pillow hidden in the secret of her florescent orange tent. The smell of withering sheep droppings fills the air of the pasture she now calls home. Albania is this sweet, mountainous country full of shy smiles and shoes that don’t fit the children with whom she plays. Yet, joy radiates from her being like a shooting star in a velvet black sky: undeniable.
When I first arrived in Lezhe, Albania, I did not know what to expect of my first month on the world race. My squad has now been here for a little over a week working at camp ‘Light force’. Underprivileged village children between the ages of six and fourteen stay here for a week at a time. My team works with a group of kids that we are with everyday from 8:00 am until 9:00 pm. These children are identified by their schools and picked for this camp, making it free to them. Being at this camp gives these children an opportunity to play and just be kids. Also, to feel loved in a way that many of them never have been shown before because of the lack of affection and trust in the culture. The young children have many heavy responsibilities at home such as tending to their family farms. Some have even had to leave camp early to care for their livestock that produce the family income as well as their food. I absolutely love these children, they are filled with so much joy and are tremendously thankful for the toys they get to play with which are in less than perfect conditions.
In my life, I believe that the world race is the beginning of a new season. By not just stepping, but lunging out of my comfort zone, the chains of my old life have fallen off. Every time I take a leap further into the unknown and the uncomfortable, I feel the weights that I have tied on, plummet to the ground. The familiar is home to the mundane, but if you want to fly, throw yourself where you do not want to be: The uncomfortable. Test the limits of your heart and find yourself surprised at the feeling of unexpected satisfaction.
Though we brought our tents, I did not expect to ever use them, and yet every night I sleep in one with my husband along with eleven dirty sheep in their small pasture. It is impossible to take one step without placing your feet on their droppings. I have hand-washed all of our clothes and leave them out to dry in the scorching hot sun. Since the camp is sustained by the farm that it is on, the pigs, sheep and cows produce a constant aroma. The shower that we use is always cold and is literally over a squatty potty. This means we are spreading our legs over a filthy hole in the floor to try and get clean. To us Americans, this is the epitome of foreign. However, this is all that these children have ever known.
In just this week alone on the camp I have seen a majority of the children with cheap flip-flops that are far too small for their growing feet and a boy with a hot pink suitcase with the word ‘lipstick’ written all over it because it was the only bag his family had for him to use. I walked down the rubbage filled dirt road and saw two small boys desperately digging through trashcans collecting plastic bottles trying to make a small income for their families.
Too often in America and other first world countries, we complain because we run out of something that most people may not ever have in their lifetime. I believe that it is a privilege to be here doing as the Albanians do. I would never exchange the eye-opening experiences of serving as a missionary for a day of luxury in America. My heart is to love, and love well those who have less than I do. They will forever teach me so much more than I could ever teach them. I know that this is only the beginning of my year on The World Race, but my life will not stop there. My hands will not stop serving, my heart will not stop caring, and my love will never stop giving.
This may be a ‘missions trip’, but it is so much more;
It is a way of life if one allows it.
