Joy

I met a girl from the Congo named Nilame, while teaching, this year.  Throughout the year she has told me about her life.  When she was a toddler her father was murdered.  Shortly afterwards, her mother went to Uganda to retrieve some money; it was supposed to be a two week trip.  She got stuck there, due to war, for three years.  During this time Nilame and two of her five siblings sat in front of a candy stall owned by her abusive paternal grandmother.  Her mother had told her to sit there and watch for her return.  Nilame says that the best day of her life was the day she finally saw her mother returning.  No feeling could ever replace that reunion.

She lived in a refugee camp after this for a few years.  Eventually, she was able to come to Canada.  Nilame entered school, for the first time, in grade 5.  She could not read or write any language, and she did not know any English.  She says her life had finally turned around.  This held true until this school year.

Early in the fall her mother got sick, and lost her job.  They could no longer pay the rent.  The whole family become homeless.  An added complication to their life occurred when her younger brother ran away, and stopped going to school.   She has tried to help him, but to no avail.  Nilame has bounced from place to place all year, but rarely missed class.  Amazingly, none of her classmates know that she is homeless.  She is a survivor. Our school is recognizing this with an award for perseverance at graduation this Friday.

We were talking this week about her struggles, and I noted that despite her rough year she was always happy.  Her explanation was that Jesus spoke to her and He promised to always fill her heart with joy.  She says that, in a sense, this has been her hardest year since moving to Canada seven years ago, yet she has never felt better.  I asked her if Jesus was always that specific with her?  Nilame smiled and said, "He is."