TITLE: Home 02/14/2019 By Gloria Pierre Dean 02/14/19 |
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
SEND ARTICLE TO A FRIEND |
After living in an arid sub-Saharan desert all my young life, imagine my joy at seeing this wide expanse of green grass before me. There are no armed guards here, instead, I see people lounging on the grass. They are enjoying this sunny day. Some have picnic baskets, some are just talking to each other or asleep on the green. In the distance, there are dogs chasing each other playfully.
No one seems afraid.
'Let me tell you about myself'.
My name is Naimie. I grew up in a very poor village where everyone lived in mud huts. Women and girls walked to the local wadi or river many times a day to collect water. It was not clean water. Many got sick. We dug holes in the land around the wadi and planted corn and other food crops.
Sadly, one day my family were all killed by raiders, I now lived with a kind widow. On the day of the raid, I was hiding so I was not found. Later, due to poverty at home, I was sent out to beg for food in the streets.
Sometime later, unfortunately, I was captured and trafficked by an unkind family. Christian missionaries rescued me from the traffickers in Sudan. I will not tell you what those ten years of my life had been like. Unimaginable horror would just about define them. I was fifteen years old when I was rescued.
My new home is a Christian Shelter for women in Reading, Britain and is called The Park House. I was told that I will be safe here. I can heal, learn about Jesus, to be financially independent and contribute to my wellbeing. My foster mother's name is June.
I look out the window often and many times I see people eating from picnic baskets, some are just talking to each other while others are asleep on the green grass. In the far distance, dogs are chasing each other playfully.
No one seems to be afraid.
"Today is a lovely day!" I muse to myself silently. “The sun is warm, not hot. What a change from Sudan!" One day my foster mother June, asks me if I wanted to go for a walk.
“What me?†I ask quietly.
"Yes! Yes!" I added quickly. I dress hurriedly and soon June and I step out of the front door. I catch my breath.
"It is so beautiful here!" I said to June with a smile. It is not flat all over. Undulating hills call to me. We step on to the path and start walking. The best thing that I see in are the swings and the slides. I see them and I could hear the children laughing. Soon I was able to get on one. As I get on I have a sense of pure joy. "Today is my first time!" I say to June loudly, "I never want to leave the Park".
As we slowly resume our walk, June points out many things to me, especially the birds as they fly overhead.
Singing sparrows, thrushes, robins and colourful goldfinches flying through the air and some nestle in the shrubs. A few crows caw at the top of the trees. Beautiful butterflies dart from shrubbery to shrubbery. Bees seem to be having fun as they visit the flowers.
In the distance, I see gently rolling hills which invite me to see what is over them. “On the south side is a small river where we may go fishing and boating one day, Naimie,†says June. In a pond, people are feeding ducks bread crumbs.
Over time I learn that the shelter is run by a Baptist church. June takes me to church on Sundays where I meet many families with children. There are social teas that I enjoy. I feel drawn to children. If I am allowed I may help with the Sunday School. I love all the stories about Jesus and I love Psalm 91.
Verses 3-4 is personal;
'For He will rescue you from the snares set by your enemies who entrap you and from deadly plagues.
4 Like a bird protecting its young, God will cover you with His feathers, will protect you under His great wings; His faithfulness will form a shield around you, a rock-solid wall to protect you.' {Psalm 91 The Voice}.
Deep in my heart, I believe that I am home!
"Yes, I thank you God. This is home," I say to my pillow each night as I pray. God has rescued me and had been guiding my steps when I was in bad places.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.