K has a beautiful heart.
In the midst of a war going on in the eastern part of Tajikistan last week, he amazed
me.
While glued to the internet for any information about what
was going on in Khorog, the town where some of his family, including cousins
his age live, K caught a glimpse of the picture of a school in flames and
immediately asked me what it was. I told
him that there was something bad going on in Khorog and we had to pray for his
cousins to be safe…and that this school was burning. He left my side and continued to play with
his toy car that his grandmother bought for his birthday a few days
before. The next day, when I came home
from a late meeting, he asked me why I didn’t pick him up from the school bus
like I usually do and I told him I had a meeting to plan how to help the people
in Khorog by sending medicines, food and supplies. Again, he listened and then went on watching his
favorite cartoon. While having an after
school snack the next day, he looked at me and said “we need to send medicines
to the school” and immediately took a chair in the kitchen, propped it near the
medicine cabinet, climbed up and took all the medicines and put them in a
plastic bag. “This is for the people in
the school” he told me with a smile on his face.
That evening before bed, we continued the conversation about the school. We talked about the kind
of tools we would need to rebuild the school after he suggested we do so. A hammer, nails and sugar –
yes, sugar to connect the pieces of wood together. Then we talked about the kinds of things that
we would put in the school once it was built…chairs, desks, toys, books and of
course, toilets – who could forget. We went
to bed and my heart beamed with pride while I looked at him sleeping next to
me.
As usual, I got up early to get some work done before
getting K ready for school. He was lying
on the couch talking to his imaginary friend, Mason in America , as he
often does lately and I heard him say “only Allah can build the school.” Wow, what a thing for a kid to say, I
thought. And I remembered something a
spiritual lady once told me when K was younger – that children come directly
from God and are still connected to God when they are small. I truly believe this to be the case because
soon after K said these words, the conflict ended.
A week has passed and K is still talking and asking about
the burning school in Khorog. Yesterday,
when walking home after picking him up from the school bus, he said that he
told one of his friends in his class about the burning school. I am so proud of
my little boy who has proven to me that kids understand more than we think they
do.
I wouldn’t be surprised if we do end up rebuilding that
school one day and I can’t wait to tell him how he helped his people.
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