Yesterday, a wonderful humanitarian woman wrote on our wall: “When you do this – the heart wears out faster, it ages faster.”
So I wonder how old mine is, how I still have tears.
This is not my first visit to Africa, nor will it be my last. Do the tears dry up with time and do I want them to dry up? Is it even possible? If that happens – did I become stronger then? Untouchable? Colder to other people’s pain and need?
Will I be able to do what I do with the same enthusiasm? Will I still dream of full children?
Will Slavica and I succeed in our plan to feed them more, as much as they need?
Remain human while everything is falling apart around you? To be strong enough, cry and work.
The older I get, the more aware I am of how little I need.
Very little.
Others need more.
Children the most.
Do I imagine that I am doing my best to make Roadmap for help progress? Maybe I can still.
So that more children are full and not on the verge of starvation.
The term edge is not really clear to me, I took it from someone. They are hungry on both sides of the rim here.
What a paradox of life – to be consumed by their hunger. The whole. And heart, and soul, and body.
My heart is sad, my soul is torn, my body hurts. All my organs are crying.
I got up early this morning too.
I feel that I don’t have the strength to write either a letter or a dash, but the thought that maybe a few words today will bring a new godfather, maybe his heart will be touched by some word that I am not even aware of now, gives me new strength.
So I’m writing… I’m writing to myself that I’m alive, I’m writing to you not to worry, I’m writing to current and future godparents to let them know who is looking after their children – two women who are fighting windmills at the end of the world.
With children starving, beaten mothers of those same children, sexually abused girls.
We try to save what can be saved. Some more life, although sometimes I wonder why they call it life.
I know only one thing – I’m not giving up!
I’m not allowed. I can’t let them be alone.
So let me cry, I will cry and work while I breathe.
