Ode to Parents

These past two weeks, I have been doing some work related and personal travel. In these expeditions, I ran across some of the most rare and valuable resources in the world-- parents. When one thinks of countries like Lesotho, with official HIV + rates near one third of the population and millions and millions of orphans across the developing world; when one thinks of kids raised by people who don't care, who give things but not time, who do not love-- one realizes the importance of parents. The tragedy of so many orphans is not simply starvation or child exploitation, it is parentless children who grow into parentless adults. I prayed some years back for God to give me an abundance of parents and I try to stay open to older parental figures in life. They have so much to give young kids (like myself). So, last week, I visited a couple who were my mother and father's friends before I was born. Although in thier sixties, they led us (some PCV's and I) up into the Rwenzori Mountains on a grueling hike without breaking a sweat. We youngsters were about to pass out (I was sore for three or four days) but they have been hiking together for decades and thought nothing of it!
Afterwards, we talked about the past, the present, and ideas for the future. Things didn't seem so scary when I could look ahead and see that they have made it by faith, living all over the world (he is a doctor, she is a teacher) for these years, that they have raised normal, healthy children, and that they still live for a purpose and love each other. Thank you for that example!
Next, I visited my host parents in Wakiso. On thier small two acres, 2,000 well kept chickens and about 75 pigs, along with bananas, beans, and corn, greeted me in thier usual tidy, well cleaned manner. One cannot even smell the chickens and pigs from the house. My host mother manages this farm project and a store in town while my host father works in the city. On Saturday mornings, I could wake to find the whole family, with their three children, watching cartoons together and talking. Despite their wealth, they eat what is grown on the farm, minimizing outside expenses and excesses to invest in their childrens' education. When I voiced my doubts about being a white person working in international aid, my host father (who is an accountant for a prominent US NGO) gently told me of his experiences and encouraged me to continue pursuing an international aid career. For these parents also, a million thanks!
Soon, I will be going home to see my mother and father. These are the people who told me that they'd rather have me get B's in high school and care about others than get straight A's (I disobeyed that one). When I was discussing future careers with my Dad, he did not talk about money or responsibility, or even stability. He just said "If money was not an issue, and you knew you couldn't fail, what would you do?" I just want to say thanks for caring about who I become not only what I become, guys.
I also want to thank my grandparents, who have always been parents in situations and ways that my parents couldn't. Whether through tough love and practical advice, or through unexplainable tenderness, you guys have been and are so much to me, thank you. Lastly, I want to thank my adopted mom. When I saw no way out of my situation and thought I would be trapped, you were there. You continue to support, encourage, and take care of so many details for me, I thank you.
I have other, younger parents in New Jersey who were friends and parents, you guys made a new place a home. So, now I know I am incredibly blessed. While some people lack one parent, I have so so so so many;
thanks guys,
Sarah