Nkosinathi the Zulu name for Emmanuel meaning “God with us.” This is the Zulu name I was given by a St. Leo’s teacher to remind me that God will always be with me and others. My year thus far has taught me in numerous ways how God is constantly with us. God is with us during some of our most difficult and trying moments. God is with us in some of the simplest ones. I find for myself I often get caught up and forget this message. I was once told children are often our own greatest teachers. Well, I can say for sure the boys at St. Theresa’s Home for Boys have proved that to me over and over again, even in their ability to show me the meaning of “God with us.”
About a month ago, during an amusing moment when the younger boys from Don Bosco’s cottage turned me into their own human jungle gym, catapult, or (most often) human safety net. The “safety net,” as I’ll call it, is when I am forced to catch the boys after they hurl themselves at me without warning. During this time a month ago, one of the boys from another cottage was caught with a lighter and some cigarettes. It wasn’t the fearful look on his face that I saw “God with us,” but it was on the face and in the words of the “Auntie” (equivalent of house mom) who had caught him. In a glimpse I saw that her face was full of hurt, withheld tears, and most importantly love. The “Auntie” said as she marched the boy up to the director’s office, “After 20 years of working in Child Services it still isn’t any easier.” Her words and body language showed me that after 20 years she still loves and hurts for each boy as if they where form her own womb. Here God showed me the depth and truth of his ability to give love both to us and through us.
It was around the same time I encountered this message that God began to show me another side of this profound message, the ability to ask for love. In my Independent Cottage (where high school age boys stay), I often find myself inside helping with homework, mentoring, or just shooting the breeze. Well, that all changed once “Brooklyn” arrived to stay in our cottage. Brooklyn is an 8 year old, who is new to St. Theresa’s, and has what appears to be a form of Cerebral Palsy. He is down with the older boys in order to allow him more supervised attention due to the smaller number of them. Now, whenever the boy’s are all done or don’t have any homework, Brooklyn and I roam around, play, and practice walking to strengthen the use of his limbs. Last Tuesday, the day before South Africa’s voting holiday, Brooklyn decided to take me hand and hand on an adventure to the other cottages. Mostly, all of the boys were out and about playing all day (after all what else does every other kid around the world do when there is no school or homework due the next day?). Brooklyn and I set out to make our way up the hill to the other cottages. With his usual big smile on his face and commands of “Woza Baba, come play!” we walked to Don Bosco cottage to play with the younger boys. We climbed up the tall flight of stairs together. Once at the top Brooklyn found a picture book, sat down on a sofa, and commanded me, “Come sit Baba.” He held out the book and gave me a look knowing I would join him. As I began to flip through the pages with him, Brooklyn took my hand, placed it around his opposite shoulder and with such an impact said to me, “Care for me Baba.” This simple gesture of an arm around his shoulder meant so much more to me. It said to me, “love me” “protect me” “value me” and most of all “be with me.”
God uses us and each other to show he is always there. He shows us that even before we realize it he is with us, in us, and around us. He is giving to us and asking of us one simple thing. To love.
