| 8/30/5 | News & Special Plea: She was Only Fifteen |
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August 30, 2005   (Denise Hayes) AIDS is the great destroyer… demolishing lives and families. I have been witness to this more times than I would like to admit. Yet, I always desire to share the stories with whoever will listen, for I want these lives to count for something. This is Anna’s story, and I will be her voice because only her sweet spirit lives on in this world today. The first time I saw Anna, I was not so much impressed with her as with her elderly grandmother. The old ‘mbuya’ had come to our children’s home asking assistance for her two grandchildren, Anna, aged 10 and Lessen, aged 2. She was knarred and bent, and I was astonished that this ancient woman was the caregiver of these two children. Having spoken with her, I learned she was destitute, and only through working her fields day in and day out could she provide the maize to feed these children. They were dressed in rags, and obviously malnourished, as they both had scanty reddish hair, skin sores and large protruding abdomens. The little boy seemed to fare better than the girl, but perhaps it was because his years were still few. Anna looked desperately ill. Their mother had died shortly after the birth of Lessen, leaving them both orphaned, but Anna’s story began in 1990. I remember that year well. I had held my own baby in my arms on that first day of October in 1990. Jennifer Lucille Hayes had come to us somewhat prematurely, and on her third day of life, our little Lucy had almost slipped away from us as she suffered a respiratory arrest secondary to hypoglycaemia. I recall the terror of almost loosing her and the love that poured out of every part of my body and soul as I willed her to live. Not so far away from me another mother had held her little baby girl, with cherub lips and thick curly black hair. She had named her Anna, and she loved her just the same. But deep within this mother was lurking a hidden monster, a virus known as HIV that would soon awaken and destroy her life and her very ability to be a mother. A few years later, she gave birth to another child, this time a little boy. By now, she must have been very sick, because shortly after giving birth for the second time, she passed away. With her died the silent terror that had encompassed her in knowing that she was abandoning her children to a fate of which she had no control. Passed on to their elderly grandmother, little Anna and Lessen were kept safe within her love. Exactly what transpired during those formative years of their early childhood one can only guess, but it is clear that they did not receive the proper nutrition or hygiene so desperately needed by children, nor did they receive much in the form of education. Of one thing I am sure, that they received the love needed for survival, for I think that is the only thing that kept them going all those years. I suggested to the grandmother that I could best assist her by taking her grandchildren into the Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre, thus relieving her of the responsibilities of these children. She was agreeable to Anna joining us, but she did not want to release her grandson into our care. Having discussed the issue with Social Welfare, they suggested that I assist in the care of Lessen from a community point of view to enable the grandmother keep him, but that we admit Anna to our home. And this we did. Although Anna’s extended family have told me that she came into this world frail and remained sickly during her early childhood, in my years in Africa, I have never known a child to be born HIV+ and survive to the age of 15, so I personally suspect that our little Anna could have been sexually abused during her childhood. By the time she came to us in 2001, (age 10) she had AIDS and had already undergone treatment for tuberculosis. Within weeks we discovered that she had contracted the pulmonary disease for a second time and had to undergo another round of TB treatment within our care. Anna was our first resident, the brave little African girl who willingly chose to live in our home rather than stay within the safety of her little village and all that she had ever known. In the days and weeks to follow, more children joined us, but Anna was known as the ‘leader of the pack’ as she was the eldest resident and the one with the most experience at the Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre. She fit into the program well and we immediately enrolled her in the local government school, where she eagerly participated in her studies. Her body was too weak to participate in the sports program. She loved to sing and whenever the LPTCC choir presented their songs to the church or other groups, her voice could be heard above all, even though she was already struggling for breath. She wanted desperately to learn English, and would always chime out her newly learned words so that we would congratulate her on her linguistic skills. Although small in stature, she was tall in ethics, and we could always depend on Anna to tell the truth when there were issues with our children and housemothers. She also had a sense of loyalty. One particular housemother took it upon herself to teach the children some songs sung during the liberation war of Zimbabwe. Apparently she had felt that the children needed to know their ‘history’, which in itself is not such a bad thing. But one particular song spoke of the ‘evil white man’ and this offended Anna greatly, who duly reported it to me. The rest of my staff laughed as she conveyed that she did not like the song that spoke badly of all whites. I was proud of her and the fact that she was learning to judge a man by his character rather than his race. Not to say that our little Anna was perfect. She too could be naughty as well as nice! She loved her sweets, and one morning, the temptation being too great, she decided to help herself to some of the rationed sugar sitting on the kitchen counter. Unable to decide how to transport the sugar out of the kitchen, she quickly filled her shoe with the sticky substance, only to be busted by the housemother when she saw a trail of the sweet granules leading from the kitchen to the outside door! Anna loved Lucy. She once announced to all that Lucy was her sister. Lucy came and told me and asked if it was true. I explained that as we had legal custody of her I suppose she was an ‘adopted sister’. That seemed to make Lucy happy, as they often played together, but as Lucy matured and grew stronger, Anna remained small and became more delicate, like a porcelain doll easily broken. More and more she could not participate in the ball games or tag. Not long before she succumbed to the disease, I noticed Anna and Lucy sitting on the ground, making ‘beaded necklaces and bracelets’ from the local eucalyptus trees…they proudly displayed their crafts and presented me with some as gifts. Some of Anna’s ‘accomplishments’ in life included jumping on a jumping castle and having her face painted. She made a special trip to the Nyanga Mountains and there played with balloons in the wind. She enjoyed several picnics by the dam. She licked ice-cream cones and gazed at African lions at a game park. And she made many trips to the doctor and hospital…until we all decided that she had had enough. The virus began to attack her brain as one day we noticed that her one hand was shaking uncontrollably. Soon she was unable to hold her spoon to feed herself. Then she became unstable on her feet and before long she was bedridden. Two weeks before she died, Lucy set up a video and popped some popcorn and we carried Anna to a little bed by the TV so that she could share in the activities. I can picture her there, her little face so miserable, but trying so hard to be a part of the group…and the group content because their leader was there with them. Having to commute from Harare, I was unable to spend as much time with Anna as I had wanted to, but I felt satisfied that we had all given her the best care possible. She had been on many medications, and had been given a highly nutritious diet…and everyone had given her much tender loving care. At one stage her grandmother came and requested to take Anna back to the village. I was not keen because I knew we could provide better care, but I decided to let Anna tell us what she wanted to do. Her answer was an emphatic “I want to stay here at my home at the LPTCC.” And so she did. Having to return to Harare shortly before she died, I told my supervisor that I knew it would be the last good-bye, and it was. She knew she was dying, and had told Rose, our supervisor, on several occasions that her time was coming. Because of her health, she had advanced slowly in school. We all felt it was a triumph when she could participate in school at all, and the rule towards the end was that Anna would only go to school when she felt like going. She was able to complete the fifth grade by the time she turned 15, but she prepared us for her death by telling us “I completed the 5th grade but I will not go to the 6th grade.” The call came on the morning of the 27th of August. I was at our flat in Harare, packing to return to the children’s home that very afternoon. Rose said simply, “She is gone.” I felt much grief, yet it would be a lie if I did not admit relief, for she had suffered greatly. Lucy had unfortunately been booked for months into a Christian Camp, and I was scheduled to drop her off on the way to Chinyudze. My daughter was very sad and very quiet the rest of the morning, and especially unhappy that she would be unable to attend her funeral. But I assured her Anna would have wanted her to go to her camp. Later Lucy presented me with a letter to read on her behalf at Anna’s funeral. I promised to do so. When I arrived at the Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre later that afternoon, tired and hot and dusty, everyone rushed to console me, for in their eyes I was her mother. Only then did I realize the responsibility that God had given me for the life of this child. I walked to my office, and there on the door was a work of art entitled “Mai Hayes” (Mama Hayes), drawn by Anna. It reminded me of the day she had stopped by my office, standing quietly in the doorway until I had asked her what she wanted. “I just wanted to tell you that I loved you.” It had melted my heart and I had given her a big bear hug. How I wished I could hug her one more time. And so my weekend began…the many visitors…ordering the coffin…arranging food…maShona protocol and customs. I was anxious to spend some quiet time with Anna, and so Rose and I slipped into her room and from the tiny figure lying on the mattress I pulled the covers back and there she was…and she was only fifteen years old. She would never know the thrill of dating and finding a life partner, the joy of having a child of her own, or one day a grandchild. She would never live life to its fullest. Her grandmother and aunt came into the room and we all cried together, bound by the love for this little girl. We prepared her body and when the coffin arrived, loaded her and her entourage into the truck for delivery to the family village. It had been the request of the grandmother to bury Anna at the family gravesite, next to her mother’s body, and we were happy to oblige. At the village there were many members of the community awaiting her arrival, and when they pulled the coffin from the truck, the wailing began in earnest. We spent time in the kitchen hut, as is the tradition, greeting everyone, sharing our memories of Anna, crying, and singing…all by candlelight and kerosene lamps. Throughout the night this continued with the elderly grandmother keeping vigil on the ground beside the coffin. The next morning I was asked to say a few words on her behalf, and in doing so, I shared with them that as Christians, death is not the victor but the victory is in the hope that we have in Jesus Christ. I spoke of the seasons of our lives and how death is a natural part of life. In closing, I read the letter Lucy had written to Anna; “To Anna; You have gone into a better place now. You aren’t suffering anymore and have no more pain. I will miss you very much. And I am sorry I couldn’t come to your funeral because of this camp that I had to go to. I will always remember you and how sweet you were. You were such a brave girl. You were my sister, so naturally I’m going to think of you every day. I remember how friendly you were when I first met you. You were such a wonderful person, Anna. I love you always, your sister” As I read the letter, waves of sobbing began…not the loud wailing so prevalent at these funerals, but gentle, heart-felt tears...I was surprised to see some of the men shedding tears. Rose and I cried at this precious letter written from one sister to another, and we tucked it into her coffin for her eternal journey. Along with the letter was one of those little bracelets they had made together from the eucalyptus trees. When our time at the village was done, it was time to bury our little Anna. As the men prepared to carry the coffin to my truck, two young women, relatives of Anna, took some of the thatching from the roof of the hut where she lay and swept the ground. As is the custom, donations of money are to be thrown on that ground to cover expenses for the labour done by these relatives. They are the ones who walk to the borehole to fetch the water for the group, and they are the ones who cook for the crowd. After this, her coffin was carried amidst loud shouting, as if to bid a final farewell from the home. So began the long procession from that village to the burial site, several miles in the distance on a hill overlooking the hot, arid and dusty bush of that August day. I drove in first gear the entire way, through pot-holed dirt roads to mere paths. Some walked in front of the vehicle and others behind. This I am sure of; Anna would have been proud that so many came, and so many cared, about her life. She was buried at 11AM, one hour before noon. As is the custom, no one is to be buried when the sun is directly overhead. The graveside ceremony was short and sweet, and when requested, I offered a prayer on her behalf. The lid to the coffin was removed after she was lowered into the ground, so that all could walk by one last time and see her. And then, we left her on that lone hillside, with the msasa trees giving birth to their new green leaves, and the doves mournfully cooing. There came a gentle dry breeze from the east, one so common to our African Spring, and it was a reminder to me that He is there. The sky was hazy with smoke as bush fires surrounded us, and the world was grey, but even so, it was beautiful, and I reminded Rose that I too must be buried here in the bush. We returned to the grandmother’s village, to be met at the gate by a young woman with a bucket of water in tote. As is the custom, all are to wash their hands before entering the property…a cleansing which gives finality to the burial. After bidding our farewells to all, I departed back to the Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre and spent some time with our children there, asking them how they were doing and if they had any questions they wanted to ask of me. They had no questions for me, but the new leader of the pack, Tawanda, spoke eloquently as he thanked me on behalf of all the children there for giving Anna the love and care she needed during her years at the LPTCC. These children of mine, they have seen a lot of death in their short time, but I am reminded through them that life goes on. She was only fifteen… Friends and supporters, The story you just read only intensifies the need of living onsite at the children’s home. It has now been 15 years since we came to Zimbabwe and 9 years since All God’s Children was formed to assist these children in need. Throughout the years Denise has made sure your funding has gone for the care of the children, not using any to provide housing for herself on the property of Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre. The only monies used for that purpose was designated funds, which sadly was not enough to complete the structure. Over time, due to the economic situation, prices have increased and will now cost twice as much as planned, if put off much longer it will increase to 4 times as much. A building team from WORLD MISSION BUILDERS has agreed to come and complete the house in January 2006. What is needed now are the funds for materials. I am making a plea on behalf of All God’s Children and the children at the Lucy Pruett Trinity Care Centre for you to assist in whatever way you can to help provide the onsite housing in order for Denise to provide 24 hour nursing care to these children. For some of the children their time is short, but with 24 hour onsite nursing care, their time with us can be extended. Won’t YOU please make that a reality? AGC is a 501c3 tax exempt organization and all donations are tax deductible. Please mark in the memo “House” and send all funds to : All God’s Children PO Box 305 Hudson Falls, NY 12839-0305 Thank you for your support and sharing our gift of life with these children. In His service, Jim Hayes |