Sobering Reality

I have had the great fortune of being a part of the Step into Africa planning committee to bring the traveling exhibit to Jamestown. As a group, we've been toiling since February to pull together our labors into a fantastic orchestration of the exhibit. The exhibit's objective is to promote global awareness of HIV/AIDS worldwide, particularly in Africa, and to promote the importance of child sponsorship.

After months of work, the exhibit and World Vision team arrived. The set up began Friday evening and it was open for visitors starting Saturday morning. I had the fortune of going Saturday afternoon. Its profound to go through and listen to the life of a child and look at pictures and sit on their beds and hear how they have been personally impacted by HIV/AIDS.

Today, I devoted my entire day to volunteering at the exhibit. From 8am to 8pm, I worked in the marketplace area of the exhibit to explain sponsorship, fundraising opportunities, donation opportunities and talk with people. Many people come out of the exhibit speechless and not ready to express the impact. Some want to spring into action right away and want to pour out their hearts and pocketbooks to the efforts. Its an interesting thing watching people come out of such a startling reality.

One such young woman caught my attention today. She seemed deeply impacted as she was weeping continually. I approached her and thanked her for visiting thinking there was nothing else I could say to her at that moment. She hovered at my words. Curious, I told her about the function of the exhibit's marketplace but withheld many details for she did not seem financially stable. She still stood motionless in front of me. Not sure what else to offer her, I asked her some questions about the exhibit and that opened a flood gate of words from her.

She began to tell me about how she had fallen on hard times. She had been diagnosed with HIV in the winter and her fiancé had died of AIDS as recently as 6 weeks ago. Stunned, I offered condolences. I hugged her out of sheer sympathy and to prove a point that not all people are afraid to touch her and that I certainly was not. I did not want to seem judgmental or harsh so I just hugged her, no questions asked. She walked away.

As she was looking at other things in the exhibit, I felt my eyes tearing up. I couldn't get her out of my mind. Why was she so prominent in my thinking? What was it about her? I couldn't let her go without talking with her again. I chased after her.

Once I caught up with her, I asked her for her name. She replied without asking why I would even want to know. I introduced myself formally this time unlike of the casual encounter we had before. I asked her more questions about her fiancé and how they came to be together and how HIV/AIDS became a part of their lives. She told me everything. Under 30 years old, 3 children, infected and a deceased fiancé. That was more than I would have thought just by looking at her.

I thanked her for confiding in me such a sensitive and personal topic. She told me she felt that she could speak freely since I worked at the exhibit and associated my presence there with working with infected people on a regular basis. This was a wrong assumption. One I was glad she made. As our conversation was winding down, I asked her if I could pray for her. We stood together and I held her hands and prayed for her. There is so much healing that this young woman needs that she feels the utter shame of sharing with anyone about being infected. I hugged her again and thanked her again.

It does not seem like enough. Here I was at an exhibit about HIV/AIDS awareness giving people tools to financially support those in Africa and felt so ill-prepared at that moment. Was it enough that I made physical contact to banish potential feelings of estrangement? Was it enough that I listened to this hurting person? Is there anything else I could have done? I pray that I did what I was called to do and that it was adequate.

Sometimes my heart hurts so much, I cannot give enough.