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by kimbirdus, Uganda Nov 2, 2006
Health   Short Stories


To those readers with caring hearts:

In my country Uganda , there is war, disease, starvation and pestilence. All these things are horrible, but I think they are most terrible for children who do not know why their parents are gone, why they must sleep on the streets at night nor why they must wake to morning’s light hungry, begging for food from pedestrians who walk over them like trash.

Each child emerged from its mother’s womb as beautiful as any angel, astonishing with their radiance all who welcomed the little girl or boy into this world. Smooth faces, wonderful smiles and little arms outreached to love us warmed our hearts. Now, it seems so many have forgotten those times.

What have so many smiles and tiny arms gained these orphans? Only sadness, confusion and disdain. Their reward has been dirty clothes, cracked and wrinkled skin, and eyes once bright and shining as gemstones now turned dark as bits of coal and swollen with tears.

The laughter and sound of children’s play is the happy voice of God. He has taken many of these children back to Him for comfort. Still, other orphans remain and their tears dampen their cheeks each bright morning and each hungry night, so that even the holy voice of God Himself is silenced by their plight.

Those same nights and mornings, I pray for aid in the continuing work that keeps our orphanage at Kikusu Maggogo , Uganda operating. The work I began many years ago to provide so many children the opportunity to smile and grow to become healthy must continue, and it will with the help of our voices, our efforts, our hearts and ears open to the voice heard once again of children’s laughter and God’s voice. We ask for so little: a well for fresh water, aid in growing the maize that now sustains our orphans and most of all the goodwill and love of our friends across the world.

There is need everywhere, certainly, but I am writing from one place, one village and one orphanage and in the name of one God. I wish to hear the children laugh again. I wish to let them hear God’s voice, but I do not think I can do it alone.

Just as I plead for good seasons as we plant and reap our maize, just as I plead for rains and the sound of children’s laughter, I plead for the help of friends who will look into their hearts and say: “This is right and needful.”

Moses Zimbe



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