Meet Amin

I finally had a moment to relax. It’s been ten days. The chaos of moving to a new country and adapting to orphanage life was over whelming at times. I found a moment to close my door and lay down for a nap.

No sooner had I closed my eyes when I heard in a low smooth voice at my window “Todd”. It is a distinct pronunciation of my name that identifies it with the children of Rwanda. Again I heard “Todd”. In that moment I thought. Do I ignore and sleep or answer. My usual response would be to ignore. After all, the child probably doesn’t even know I am in my room, let alone trying to sleep. But God nudged me to respond. The voice said, “This is Amin” then I could not understand what else he was saying. The children have been taught English in school for two years now. It is the official language that schools must teach. With over crowded class rooms it is apparent that Urukundo needs to build their own school.

The voice again said that he had something for me...I said “I am trying to nap. No thanks.” I again closed my eyes and I heard Amin walk away. As I rested I began to think of Amin. He is probably in seventh grade. He is the boy who I never know where he is at at night. He disappears sometimes. He shows up after devotions in time for bed but he is always missing in action. He, of all the boys, is one that I have concern for. I wonder what his story is...I imagine it is one of hurt and rejection. There is an outer crust on Amin that tells a story.

As I rest it becomes apparent that I can not ignore the opportunity. I leave my room and go into the “living room” common area in the boys dorm which is right outside my door. I am sad that I have missed the opportunity. I sit quietly on the couch. In comes Amin. He has a piece of chapati bread and offers it to me. Every Saturday the cooks make delicious chapati. It is still warm and is coated in cooking oil and taste as good as mom’s home cooking! We sit and eat together not saying a whole lot.

Amin asks in broken English “Is America good?” I tell him it is but that Rwanda is good to. That America has both good and bad as well as Rwanda. I ask him “Is Rwanda good?” He smiles and says “yes”. We carry on a disjointed conversation of small talk. I am amazed at the moment because none of the boys up to this point have made any attempt at talking to me.

Amin is sitting next to me on the couch and turns his head and says, “Todd, I love you.” Time stops. My heart is in my throat and I manage to offer my heart back, “I love you too.” The rest of the time together, trying to play his cds on my computer, more chapati bread and playing the beginning of “Astro Boy” all seem pale in comparison to the moment that I almost slept away.