A Sad Day in Kanana

Yesterday I went with Pastor Noel and a couple girls from the youth group to the village of Kanana to do outreach like we always do on Wednesdays. We stopped at the AIDS clinic first to drop off donated clothing and food, so that the caregivers can give them to the people in the village who need them most.

Two weeks ago, on our last visit to Kanana, I walked over to the shack next to the AIDS clinic to meet the family who lives there. This shack is the only one near the clinic, and the family was outside, so I just decided to walk over there and say "hello" (or "dumela" in Tswana).

It turns out the mother spoke pretty decent English, so I was able to talk to her quite a bit. She also introduced me to her 3 children, 2 boys and a girl. The older boy and girl were school-aged, and then the younger boy was only 19 months old and absolutely adorable. He had a little toy that played music, and he would bob and sway to the music. It was really cute!

The mother explained to me that only the older boy was her own son. The girl was her sister's child, but that sister had died of AIDS several years ago. The littlest boy was her other sister's child, but that sister was very sick with AIDS and unable to take care of her baby. So here she is living in this tiny shack constructed of pieces of tin trying to feed and provide for 3 children. Unfortunately, her circumstances are not at all uncommon here in South Africa.

Yesterday when we arrived at the AIDS clinic, I walked over to see my new friend and her children. None of the kids were there. It was just the mother. I asked her how she was, and she told me "not good." She went on to tell me that early last week the 19-month-old boy had wandered up to the road, which is right next to the clinic, and was struck by a car. She ran to him and found that he wasn't breathing. From her description, it sounds as though he died instantly.

She cried as she told me what happened and confessed to me how guilty she felt about not watching him more closely. She also told me that she hasn't been sleeping or eating, that it's just too difficult for her. I felt so sad for her and kept reassuring her that this was an accident, that she cannot hold herself responsible for his death.

We also talked a lot about how it's difficult to understand why God allows bad things like this to happen. Before leaving, I gave her a big hug and told her I would be praying for her that God would comfort her and heal her hurting heart and give her his peace.

It was such a great talk, and I know that it was Jesus speaking through me to her. Looking back on this conversation, I have no idea what to say to a woman who has just buried her child, but at the time I was so certain of what I needed to say to her.

Please be praying for this woman and her two remaining children. She is also being evicted from the clinic area and is in the processing of tearing down her shack and rebuilding elsewhere. Please pray for comfort, healing, and peace and also that this situation would ultimately draw her and her children closer to Jesus.