You too will be a torchbearer

 

And a carrier of my sword

 

The nations will be your inheritance

 

And I am your reward

 

 

 I’ve created you to shine

 

I’ve created you to soar

 

I’ve created you to be a vessel

 

Through which my River of Life will pour

 

 

You are no longer bound

 

By the forces of hell

 

Open your eyes

 

And you will see the heavenly realms

 

 

Laura Eubanks

   July 22, 2008

 

 

One day he comes running

 

His amigo matching his stride

 

One by one I scoop them into my arms

 

And wrap them deep inside

 

 

I pray prayers of blessing

 

That they would know the Father’s love

 

And whatever else poured through my heart

 

And set them down to a few last hugs

 

 

I remember being impacted

 

By the similarity of their names

 

I remember being impacted

 

By the sweetness of the embrace

 

 

A couple of days later

 

The same spot, different scene

 

There was a crowd of people

 

All gathered on the street

 

 

At first I couldn’t see much

 

Through the many people who were there

 

Then in a surreal moment

 

In horror I became aware

 

 

On this hot black street

 

Under the Mozambican sun

 

Under a colorful kapulana

 

Lay the lifeless body of a young one

 

 

So many were gathered

 

So many prayed

 

Yet when all was said and done

 

They took him away

 

 

As the crowd began to disperse

 

One final act I saw

 

Was someone spreading sand and dirt

 

To absorb where his life had been poured out

 

 

Now three days have passed

 

Since that child so alive, was struck dead

 

The final image, a dirty stain

 

Remnant of the blood and matter from his head

 

 

I recall the memory of the purity of his face

 

As he nestled into my legs on that last embrace

 

Now all evidence of him is seemingly erased

 

Abba, please tell me, is he in a better place?

 

Laura Eubanks July 7^th 2008

 

 

 

On Friday the 4^th of July a child named Abudo was fatally struck by a passenger truck just past the front corner of our center. I was returning after going to my home for lunch. If I walk home mid-day I often encounter the children from the villages who are coming for lunch at Iris and see them again as I return and they are leaving. They excitedly call out “Mama Laura … Mama Laura” and run up for hugs. It certainly increases my “commute time” but I cherish it! I really try to give all the love I can in those brief encounters.

When this 8 yr old but very tiny boy was killed I reminisced with gratitude for those times. Just a couple of days prior to the accident there were 2 small boys who ran up to me. I picked them up, hugged them, prayed for them and asked their names. One was Abudo, the other Abdul.

One thought that gripped me in this tragedy is that his family most likely does not have a single photograph of him. I have lost family to premature death and even estrangement but at least I can look at photos.

A comfort I have found in this situation is that attended our primary school and he was one of the children who came to Iris for lunch. It warms my heart to see streams of children flowing into our center for a good meal. Of more importance is that in addition to physical food they are being loved on and fed “Words of Life”.

 

This poem began in my head as I was walking to Center 2 a few days after Abudo’s death. I was thinking of him and praying for his family and friends. He was not alone when he was struck. His friend Abdul was there along with another child.