Scholar? Say what?

When I saw the invitation from the National Young Scholars Program addressed to Igor I thought there had been a mix up.  Don't get me wrong, our son is smart- kids from the neighborhood come with LEGO emergencies, he is a fabulous artist and has an incredible imagination. He does not like school because it is boring and he is a horrible test taker.  His grades do not reflect  "Scholar" written in blue on the invitation.  Until I looked up scholar in the dictionary
1. a pupil...
hmmm... he is a scholar after all!  His teacher nominated him for the program. When I spoke with her she said Igor was a very bright boy and he shows great leadership skills at school.  She thought he would be perfect for the program.

For those of you who have followed Igor's journey over the years you know this huge for Igor!!  It's been a bumpy seven years with our son and he still has challenges ahead.  We are delighted to say one of those challenges will be an exciting challenge- studying forensic science and building his leadership skill for a week via the National Young Scholars Program (NYSP) this summer.  That week he will staying in a dorm room with 3 other boys. Our son is growing up quickly.

Igor is paying for a portion of the NYSP tuition by mowing lawns, spreading mulch and selling note cards with his original artwork.  Check out his note cards at his Etsy shop!

Over the next few weeks and months I will be sharing stories from sponsors who have visited our care point in Kombolcha.   Their experiences have deeply moved me over the last year.    I hope you get a better sense of the journey, the transformation of sponsors and the children from these updates.

This is from Joy who went on the April 2012 trip.  

I'm a little bit of a clean freak. I'm the one who always carries GermX, you know the type!  While at our care point, having hundreds of little dirty faced kids kissing me every day was a different experience for me to say the least. I would sneak into the school building, use hand sanitizer and occasionally wipe my face with baby wipes. I loved the kids- they were precious, but I was having a problem.

I should back up and tell you that I got to meet my sponsor child while I was there.  I visited her little hut then went back to my hotel room and sobbed uncontrollably for about an hour. I was overwhelmed by the poverty, the living conditions and more.

The kids became familiar, their kisses more welcome, to share all that happened in my heart that week would take many, many pages so I will focus on one memory. 

Hayat, my sponsor child, grew in my heart until I thought it would burst.  How would I say goodbye? The last day came.  Hyat came to give me a hug and we said our goodbyes as best as possible with the language barrier then she went on her way into the sea of children. I stood there sort of numb.  I thought, well that wasn't as emotional as I thought it would be. Then I saw her, through the crowd on her knees bawling. Tears were soaking her face.  I ran toward her calling her name. I hit my knees, she came and lunged into my embrace. We sat there, her face in my face, my tears mixed with her tears. The taste of mingled tears was in my mouth. Dirty faces and hands didn't matter anymore. My heart was forever bound to her heart and it was snow white! I cried for weeks when I got home trying to work through the feelings of wanting her with me and not knowing how. God has helped me to see that I can help her and love her right where she is. Weeks later, Rahel, our wonderful translator, the children’s discipler, sent me a the pictures attached. What a blessing to have this memory captured in a photo. My memory of Ethiopia will be THAT embrace and the taste of mingled tears!