I met Agnes* in 2009 when she was six months pregnant. She was 13. She was embarrassed and shy and unsure of the new people who were now interested in her life. She gradually warmed up and became a joyful side-kick to whatever I was doing. She’s one of my favorites.
Agnes is fun and funny. She has a hilariously sarcastic sense of humor. She loves to laugh and easily elicits joy in others. Agnes is discerning and truthful and unafraid to speak her mind. It’s helpful when she’s revealing hidden motives of situations she’s observed. It’s helpful when she senses someone’s needs or when she’s advocating for someone wrongly accused. But it’s hard when she’s hurting and wants control over every decision.
Agnes is lovely and Agnes is broken. She was orphaned at a young age and moved in with an older sister who also died. Her uncle, who makes charcoal as subsistence living, took her in. Hating this change and wrought with emotional pain, she wandered around in defiance. In her wandering, she was taken advantage of and became pregnant. She was brought to us in this condition, expectant and hurting.
Agnes is bright. She finished primary school, performing well on her exams and was set up in high school for a successful future. I envisioned her finishing college and creating a sweet life for her and her child. We shared this dream regularly and she’d talk excitedly about someday buying a big car her son would drive her around in.
Life has a way of bringing past reality to the surface. It can be incredibly painful. As Oasis children navigate their hurt, there are several types of responses that ensue. Agnes’s response was to RUN! At the height of her potential, Agnes, among the top five students in her school, ran away with a cunning man who promised her love and freedom. He lied and left and she crawled back for help and delivered her second child, who died after a month from an incurable heart condition.
Agnes returned to school, determined to finish and go to college. But, shortly after, she fell for another man who was even more convincing. He too lied and he forced her to abort her third baby. During this time, of her own volition, she left the Oasis program.
Agnes has continued to regularly call me to let me know how she is doing. In 2014, she married a good man and gave birth to a beautiful daughter, Purity. (I feel the weight of the declaration of a transformed future in this name.) When she called the following year, her husband was working far away making very little money. She was hungry and desperate and couldn’t feed the baby. We worked out a plan for her to attend tailoring school and she proudly graduated in July of 2017.
Through all of this Agnes’ son has remained in the Oasis program. We’ve watched him grow from a tiny baby to a delightful young man over the last 9 years. We adore him as we do his mom!
This brings me to the present. Today was the day that Agnes’ son transitioned home. Agnes just started a job in a small tailoring shop a thirty-minute walk from her home. She’s expecting another child. Her husband has work building the railroad. He loves her and all her children. Her son was thrilled to go home. He is going to thrive because he has a family that loves him.
It’s our dream for every child to find a loving family environment with people who know them and know their story. Agnes and her husband have established a simple home and are building a loving family. We’re proud of them for this. Agnes’ son will remain in the Oasis guardian program until the family can get their feet under them. We’ll be covering his schooling needs and checking in on him regularly. He’ll walk to and from school each day and come home each evening to be with his family!
It’s not exactly what I dreamed it would be for Agnes. There was only a little upward mobility. There’s no college education and no car. At least not yet. Maybe, hopefully, the next generation will make different decisions. The journey with Agnes has been a lot messier and more exasperating than anticipated and has required forgiveness and ‘do-overs,’ but I’ve seen God right there in the middle of all of it, particularly the ugly parts. He’s comfortable with messy and I’m learning to be.
I’ll miss seeing Agnes’ son around and I’m sad I won’t see him daily, but I’m truly thrilled he’s home. It’s right where he should be.
*name changed
