That was seeing all four of my guys cuddled on our bed
watching one of their favorite tv shows. It was really special because they
were all reminded of our favorite family show that we used to watch together in
our living room in Mozambique. I didn’t even have time to let the full load of
memories roll in during my busy day last week. But that moment of seeing my
boys tucked in with their dad, and hearing them exclaim, “Hey! This is what we
used to watch at our old home in Africa!” Time Kinda froze for a few seconds. I
saw them sitting on our silly little couch with our kids all around. We tuned
into a few English channels with a second hand dish that I bought as a gift for
my husband to celebrate his ten year anniversary of living in Mozambique. It
was a special treat to have a few English TV channels along with local
Mozambican TV in Portuguese.
Everybody seemed to really enjoy renovation shows. Our big international family gathered in the living room. We had a
lot more than four guys sitting together in front of our little TV though! One
of my Mozambican sons is so quiet that sometimes he would lean behind the sofa and
pull up a chair without saying a word. At first, I wouldn’t notice that he was there for
all the noise our other boys were making. Most of our boys had a bunch of opinions
about how the renovations would turn out on the newly purchased, yet unattractive
homes.
Tista is so thoughtful. He’s a
tender soul. At one point our staff kinda gave up on helping him because he hated going
to school. Finally, I asked my husband if another one of our ‘kids’ could move
into our house with us. I wasn’t ready to let him go.
My husband looked into my eyes and said, “You really love
him, and so do I. We can’t give up on him. He needs more love and tender care.”
Our staff were skeptical at first. Then, his attendance at school improved, and
his grades improved. We realized that his challenges were deep buried hurt, not
simply a nervous stutter. Of course we spent time raising his confidence with
speech exercises, but we spent time cooking together, talking, listening,
chilling as a family for TV time, and games. These simple moments created a
bond that couldn’t be easily broken.
My husband and I began to unbury more of Tista’s story. Each of our kids who come to live at the
children’s center have ‘initial interviews’; and come with some information
about their family and closest kin. It’s not to in-depth. It helps, but it is
really just a foundation for asking the kids more questions as time goes on.
My husband and I already knew his older brothers, and they
had made the same observations as our staff of caregivers. He wasn’t interested
in school, and he was a caught sneaking off to ‘get into trouble’. He would go
to the market and watch some 5 cent movie instead of going to school.
Those nights of family TV were pretty informative for me. I
noticed how intently he watched the shows. He was focused, and very thoughtful.
I heard him translating the English show into the local Matewe dialect with one
of our other teenagers who had interjected his opinion without fully
understanding the details.
He understood more of the show than our talkative sons, but he
was still lacking confidence. We would laugh and joke around as all of us
fumbled around learning new words and phrases in different languages. We did
that with a purpose. It had to be lighthearted, or little mistakes would cause embarrassment.
We didn’t want our teenagers to feel the slightest bit of shame – especially not
Tista. I grabbed ahold of that moment and encouraged him in his English. He
could be an official translator! He just smiled and laughed, while shaking his head 'no'.
So, the next best thing was becoming my Matewe teacher. The Matewe dialect is different from MaSena or
Shona. I didn’t really know a lot of words or phrases because I could get by
with saying greetings in Portuguese, or even MaSena. So I learned a few words
from Tista. And realize he was more touched by my attempt to learn than by being my teacher. His challenge with speech was gradually going away as he
stayed in our home, attended school, and sang worship songs. He was really losing
any sign of a stutter, but was used to being the quiet one. So, I asked one of our house moms to teach me a few key
phrases before I left for this furlough.
One of the hardest things about this break from the mission
field, is that our return date is uncertain. We haven’t been away for such a
long time before. I knew that we didn’t have a return date. We have school and uncertain time-frame for documents. I wanted to make
sure to do something special for one of my favorite sons. I learned how to tell
him that I love him in the Matewe dialect.
It would sound something like reading this phonetically: En
doe na quda Mwuani yango
The tears that rolled down his cheeks as I said those words
to him were worth every moment of being a baby communicator. My house mom
helped me through every sound until it was just right. I wanted to be
understood by my Mozambican children whose native dialect was Matewe. His tears
were a clear indicator of understanding. He spoke very softly and swallowed
back tears as he told me that he had waited all his life for his mom to tell
him that she loved him. I said it again and again before we left our last home
in Chimoio. “I love you my son.” Sometimes I just tell him I love him in Matewe when we talk on Skype or chat. He's one of our best big brothers for the younger children because he knows he is loved.
Tista invested his evenings in hanging out with our family
watching TV in English not just to have fun, but to better learn my mother language. Learning more of his local dialect was the least I could do for such a thoughtful loving son.
To all of our Mozambican sons and daughters, we love and
miss you more than you can imagine. You are always in our hearts, thoughts and prayers!
Missionary Momma Mia
