Earlier on in the year I wrote about Mioty who was a live wire
in our ward. From a very troubled beginning to the sweetest end, she brightened
and challenged our lives. One day when I was sitting at my desk in the ward, she
came walking up to me singing in English (a language she didn’t know) “Bless
the Lord, oh my soul, oh oh oh my soul” It came out of the blue and I barely
knew what to do! She climbed up onto my lap and we sang the song together and
she joined in the parts she knew. Sometimes she’d walk up to the desk and point
at the speakers and say “oh my soul, oh my soul” so we’d play the song for her.
A few weeks ago when my ward opened for the first day of
this Mada2 outreach, we gathered as a group of evening shift nurses and day
crew and prayed together. My team leader then played Matt Redman’s song 10,000 Reasons and we sang it together. As the song played I actually wanted to
burst into tears as the ache of missing Mioty was felt so deeply. She was no longer in
the ward and wouldn’t be grabbing me by the hand to come and play with her or
whisper in my ear or sit on my lap and type with my fingers. It’s hard
to know what to do with an ache for someone you love and deeply miss.
Ever since Mioty left the ward in May, my friend and
co-worker Heather and myself planned to go and visit her in her home. This last
weekend we were able to organise it, along with another co-worker Ria.
After coming off night shift at 8am, I hopped into bed for a
short sleep before getting up for lunch, putting the final things into my
backpack and heading off the ship. Our small group were very privileged in
being able to catch a MAF (Mission Aviation Fellowship) flight to the capital city, cutting an 8-9hr drive of
very windy roads down to just 50 minutes of flying in an 8 seater plane. It was
amazing to see Madagascar from the air in such a small aircraft. MAF does
wonderful things in Madagascar and partnering with Mercy Ships this last year
has been amazing for us, helping us reach places far and wide in a country with
few main roads and very inaccessible terrain.
The three of us nurses and our translator Anja, arrived
outside of Shoprite supermarket and stood waiting. Only minutes later out of
nowhere appeared Mioty and her mama. Mama had a wide, almost toothless smile
and she hugged each of us. In her quiet, gentle way she seemed excited to see
us. Mioty had a cap on her 6 year old head, clasping her mama’s hand tightly,
she neither said salama (hello) nor looked
up to meet us eye to eye, but as we walked back to her house, she skipped and
bounced, excitement showing in her step.
We walked down the dusty pathway through the village, built
on one side of the old royal palace on the hill in Antananarivo, the capital
city of Madagascar. We walked past the
washing place where Mioty’s mama worked each day washing clothes for her
clients. The place was surrounded by half walls of concrete with wide, metal,
square-shaped bars to the roof. The wide ‘mesh’ bars had clean, squeezed out
laundry hanging on it and the women inside worked and scrubbed to clean their
clothes and others.
We were brought into a small, neat lounge room with three couches.
This room belonged to Mioty's aunt. We sat and chatted with mama, beside
her Mioty played with the pieces of a plastic clock, stubbornly not answering
questions but listening intently to the conversation around her.
Ria had visited Mioty a couple of times in the last few months and had told Heather and myself about the tv in Mioty’s
house that Mioty had decorated with stickers that she had been given by us in the
hospital. She asked Mioty’s mama if they could show us the tv.
Mama led us out of the room and down a small outdoor passage
way. She unlocked the padlocked wooden door to their concrete house. Pushing
open two wooden window shutters let light into the small room they called their
house.
At the end of the room, filling the width of the room was a
wooden bunk bed, which slept Mioty, two older sisters and their mama. On the
left of the room was a bookshelf and piles and piles of clothes and things. On
the right hand side of the room was a giant tv that didn’t look like it worked
and it had been turned into a piece of art by Mioty’s stickering anyway. There
was also an iron ‘stove’ for cooking which she did inside the tiny house.
On top of the tv was the knitted bear, given to her by the
Admissions team on the Africa Mercy,
which had been knitted by a kind someone overseas, who will probably never know
how far this teddy has travelled and what he has seen. Taped to the walls were some of the art projects Mioty had done on the ward back at the beginning of the
year. Even the instructions for making salt water written in Malagasy were
stuck high on the wall to see.
Mioty sat on her bed while we chatted to Mama. She pulled
out her colouring book and started colouring, she pulled down one of her
knitted dolls and played with it, she did head-stands on the bed using the bunk
slats above her to climb on, all the while, silent. We asked her if she
remembered the song we used to sing and so we sung it to her and as I was
sitting on the bed next to her, I could hear her whispering the words along
with us.
We asked her and her mama if they would like to get ice
cream, our treat. So we left their house and moved to the grassy area outside
their housing area and waited for Mioty’s sisters to come. Mioty started
playing in the sand, just like any kid. Chickens and baby chicks were
scratching around in the area, a few ladies were doing their washing in a tub
of water and Mioty found an empty yoghurt pot and played in the sand. A knitted
beanie covered her wild, dark curly hair.
Both sisters turned up, one was clearly doing mama’s work
washing for the day, but put down her load and joined us for the walk up the
road to the ice cream place. Orders were placed and ice cream was enjoyed.
Despite living only 2 minutes walk from this shop and the ice cream being less
than $1 per cone, Mioty’s mama had never been there before. I’m certain her
income from washing clothes was never high enough to support treats such as an
ice cream.
Back in their home Mioty was a little more lively and vocal
than the previous hour. I could see that if we spent several more hours there,
or even came to visit regularly, she wouldn’t need time to warm up to us, but we
would see the same cheeky, boisterous girl that we had known and come to adore
in the ward immediately. It was truly so special to be invited into their home
and to see a tiny glimpse of their lives.
Mioty starts school for the first time next week. Her
wounds from her surgery back in February, to make her a nose, have mostly healed.
The wounds that were still open when we closed the hospital at the end of May,
have healed so nicely with the care that her mama was giving her. She told us
that Mioty still fought her to clean her face and eye where it was still not
healed. We felt so encouraged though that her mama had done such a great job!
More surgery could still be done, but for now we will wait and see as the skin
of her new nose settles into place and shrinks a little. I certainly hope it
was not the last time I see her in her home, but perhaps the first.
I can't even describe how much I love this kid. |
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