Malawian Fingerprints

There's a song that talks about love. It talks about looking at the world, at people, through love's eyes. It's an interesting concept; looking at love as a person instead of just an idea or feeling. Part of the song goes like this:


I see what I made in your mother's womb.
I see the day I fell in love with you.
I see your tomorrows; nothing left to chance.
I see my Father's fingerprints!

That's about how our special needs camp in Malawi went. I saw these kid's hearts, their joys, their talents, their passions, the people whose lives they made better, the contributions they had to make to their world. We saw, on these kids, our Father's fingerprints. My team and I were blessed, for one short week, to get to see these amazing kids through love's eyes.


 Because, here's the thing: We didn't know much about Malawi. We didn't know the culture, we hadn't seen how these kids and their parents were treated in their communities. We went in knowing little about all the people who had left them in their lives because of their disability; parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, entire villages. Some kids, we went in not even knowing their disability for their society didn't know the name for it. We walked in and saw beautiful children, smart children, loving children.

We put on skits. The kids sat and stared. They didn't see grown adults in home made costumes running around speaking a language they didn't understand, bound to a translator to get their point across. They saw a puppet (who failed at everything) meet the woodcarver who made him and find out how uniquely and lovingly he was made.
They saw kids making choices about how to help a classmate, make a friend feel included, and choose service over selfishness. They say a king who wanted to help prepare his feast, but had to come, disguised as a peasant in order for the people to let him help them. They saw a man who calmed the storms with a word and fed thousands with one basket of food. They saw a bug in the jungle who thought he was too small to serve the lion king learn how to serve by listening and being a friend. There were kids who had never seen a skit before who sat enthralled by what was being taught as these stories came alive for them.

We made crafts, children and adults alike, that were hung proudly in huts all over central Malawi. A heart shaped sun catcher, a wreath of cut out hands, a Popsicle picture frame, all became treasures to people who never had time or resources to be creative and rarely heard that their work was beautiful.

We played games with hoola-hoops, balls, inflatable pools, water balloons, newspaper, and slip and slides. They had fun just for the sake of fun.
They had enough toys for everyone to play a game the way it was meant to be played and a place for everyone regardless of ability.





As the week went on, we learned about their struggles, their pain, their losses. We were told that the most normal looking child was tormented by epilepsy and outcast because of it. We heard stories from our kids who, as babies, were abandoned when their parents learned that their skin was without pigmentation. We learned of the hurt, but we didn't see it. Not at camp. Not in a safe place where everyone was different in some way. Not when everyone was an important part of the team. Not where these crazy Americans loved them so much that they chased their buses waving and yelling "see you tomorrow" every day when they went home.



At camp...we met love. We saw how love saw these kids. But we also felt how love saw us, through these kids.

The song ends:

I see your story, I see my name, written on every beautiful face.
You see the struggle, you see the shame.
I see the reason I came!

I came for your story, I came for your wounds,
To show you what love sees...
When I see you!