I knew our last day at House would be difficult but I suppose I didn’t realize just how difficult it would be. Most of us rode a rollercoaster of emotions all day. We simply played with the kids as we normally do for the first part of the day. Knowing we wouldn’t play it with the kids again, “Little Sunny Girl” became a poignant song. Cede actually sang throughout and when he finally got picked for sunny girl, all the children cheered for him. After we’d played the usual games, we decided to read the story for them the first time. An uncommon hush fell over them as they heard their names being read in a real storybook. I was pretty proud of myself that I didn’t cry while reading it aloud but then I looked at the others, kids in their laps, choking up a little and as usual, a few tears sprung up. They were quickly wiped away while the kids ate their PB&J and we began to paint. They got it all over themselves and even decided to explore the new taste of paint. Our final art project was a large poster with everyone’s hand painted on. We painted the kids hands and pressed them onto the paper and repeated the process with ourselves. We labeled every handprint and hung it up in the playschool. The process was completely full of giggles and children running around with paint all over, a dangerous prospect for all clothing involved…and faces. After cleaning off the majority of the paint, we again sat them down for the story. This time, they shrieked at each mention of a name, uncontrollably laughing. They did finally listen to the story but most of them were sniggering the whole time, pretending they were paying full attention. The giggles resurfaced and grew even louder when we gave them all a popsicle, a treat they wondered at and of course got all over. In case they weren’t hyper enough after painting and popsicles, we gave them each a sillyband and they all got so excited to have bracelets that matched ours. When they got their lunch, they all held up their hands yelling ‘Mama look! Look!’ to the housemothers who gave them lunch.
Unfortunately, with each activity we did, the time to leave got closer and closer. We began to say our goodbyes, starting with the staff. Sheila cried and Renee clouded up a little. Renee took a picture of all seven of us on the front steps with the hand painting and a housemother took a picture of us with all the kids, the painting held up behind us all. As we began to hug all the kids, their faces showed a little recognition. We’d explained it to Lisa (the smartest girl who should definitely be in Kindergarten) and she had said, “How many of you are there? [pause while she counted us.] Well, I will miss all seven of you!” So she, Mkhitha, and possibly Kuhle seemed to understand that we wouldn’t be coming back. The rest just seemed to understand that something serious was going on, that there was a reason to be a little sad since we were all trying so hard not to cry. They gave us all the biggest hugs they had, repeatedly. Cede broke my heart as he alternately hugged me tightly and sat back and gave me big smiles. I tried to explain it to him and at one point his response to the fact that I wouldn’t be back was a very straight face, a shake of the head, a big hug, and a smile (in that order). As we left the playschool, my eyes filled with tears, as I knew they would. We walked down the sidewalk with slow and heavy steps, sitting down on the grass to wait for Shadly. We’ve given these children love and attention for four months. We’ve seen them grow a little and get a little happier and more comfortable with each day. Nonetheless, the heart breaks a little leaving them.
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