Hope

Kabasa went home today. He was admitted for about 6 weeks, and for the first three of those it continually seemed as though he was dying. He came in as a weak, malnourished child, swollen with edema, whose skin was falling apart and who lacked the strength to stand or even cry very much; he left today a happy, energetic boy with a little meat on his bones, running around the ward, throwing his ball to me, with a heartwarming smile on his face. Six weeks, from the very brink of death to curious, playful life.

I don't know what awaits him. At home, he won't get the same high quality milk and food that we can provide to the inpatients. Who can say what his future holds?

Still, Kabasa gives me hope. It is easy to despair in this place, but in the face of suffering, tragedy, and loss, he is a glimmer of beauty. A little boy saved from death. A life preserved. A father spared the loss of his son. I know I have said this before, but I'll say it again - because Kabasa is walking home today, a healthy boy holding his father's hand, I feel that the world is more right than it was yesterday. Undoubtedly, the world has a long way to go - several children this week have demonstrated that in gut-wrenching ways - but Kabasa gives me hope in goodness, wholeness, and healing.

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the old order of things has passed away."