Farewell to Little Flock

Blog by Shayla ~ India has never been a place I was particularly drawn to. It was Mom's call for us to go to India...she felt the need to come. But now, I can't get enough of this beautiful land, its exotic culture, and all of the incredibly loving people who belong to it. How am I supposed to simply leave? This is the longest I've ever been away from our home in Mountain View. And to be honest, I didn't miss home. The people--my friends and church community--of course I missed, sometimes more than I could handle. But I also gained a new home. A home where early foggy mornings were spent on the porch praising God with new brothers and sisters.

 

 

A home where I always had a purpose...to help build structures or relationships. A home where meals, gifts, and laughter were shared. A home where I was stretched and sometimes tossed out of my comfort zone. A home where adventure was always around the corner. A home where sisters begged me to stay "just one month longer." But most of all, a home so full of love....there just aren't any words.      

So you can imagine that leaving such a home would be one of the hardest things I've ever done. I just couldn't picture not waking up to the loud clanging bell, or walking the kids through the village to school each day, or singing the prayer song before each meal, or sitting in cottages doing henna and laughing together at all our shenanigans, or spending cool evenings on the porch doing puzzles and learning Tamil. I couldn't imagine not seeing their precious faces each day, or giving them hugs.

Each boy and girl there touched me in a special way. Whether it was something they said, or did, or a way they expressed affection. I will miss them all so deeply, I already do. Our last day I woke up exhausted and sad. It was gloomy out, and everyone was a little less exuberant than usual. After packing up our backpacks, we were able to just spend time with the kids, on no agenda. My heart ached, but by brain told me to relish our last moments.

The afternoon was slow. And I got to lay around in the cottages with the girls painting each other's nails, while Trevor and the boys enjoyed their last few games of "futbol." Spending time with them laughing and just being girls reminded me that even though our worlds are thousands of miles apart, and our life experiences couldn't be more polar opposite, we really aren't that different. We are just looking for love, and boy did we find it in each other the last 3 weeks.

Each time one of them would quiet and then whisper, "Shayla, you no go America," I could feel a tug on my heart. I will keep my promise, I will be back.

Chapel time came around, and we sang all of our favorite songs, ones we had taught them and others they taught us. It was a joyful time of praise. As our time came to a close, we sang "The Family Song" arm in arm, swaying.

 

The time had come. The energetically helpful boys lugged our packs down the stairs of the dorm house, the one we had nick named

"The White House" The girls passed around my journal, leaving their mark with sweet little notes in swirling cursive. The van was loaded, waiting expectantly I began to give girls hugs, my eyes misty. Then, I stepped back and saw little Goonah (see photo). My precious Goonah, with tear stained cheeks and long sniffles. I saw him and a dam broke inside of me. I held him and cried. There were many rounds of hugs, kisses and "te quieros" (I love you's). It was so, incredibly hard.

I promised to be back and slid into the van.
As the wind blew through our hair, I watched the village huts pass by and remembered all the times we walked there, and past the school where I made so many little friends. The countryside whizzed past, tears rolling. I love this place. I have fallen in love with Little Flock. And I know I'll be back. How could we not? We have family there now.