And They're Gone

And the kids are gone. Just like that. Even though Familia Feliz is technically an orphanage, most of our kids are boarding students and, as a result, head home for the summer. Yeah, it’s just the beginning of summer over here. I know those of you in the states are currently heading into snowstorms and hot chocolate and Christmas movies, but personally I’m considering moving into the fridge.

Wednesday all our boys packed up their stuff. My goodness. The amount of clothing and shoes and toys they can fit into one little backpack would blow your mind. If I were to put all my belongings I own into one place, I’d probably need a truck. These kids? One or two backpacks and they are good. Simple living, folks. It’s the way to go.

Each of my boys has plastic shelving where they keep all their stuff. Their clothes, their toothbrushes and toothpaste, their toys. They’re always filled with stuff that grows and collects. It’s a constant battle to keep them all neat and clean. But now? They’re empty.

Getting Rodrigo’s that way was a process and a half. He had so many little papers and broken car pieces and belt buckles and who knows what else.

Here, Teacher. These papers are for you.

Thank you so much Rodrigo, but I don’t want your trash.

I have a lot of trash, Teacher.

I am well aware.

Fermin was the first to go. He actually left a couple days before everyone else. The night before he left we had our last worship altogether. I was trying really hard to hold it together. I just really love Fermin. He was getting into a lot of trouble in the beginning of the year; he just wouldn’t listen. But these past couple months? He has been such an angel. And goodness I am going to miss his sweet smile and no, no when I tell him how sweet he is and his eternal hugs goodnight.

And so that last night as Dani and I sat out in the living room with all of them, I was on the counter and looked over at Fermin with a sad look on my face as I knew he was about to leave me and he crawled over to me and put his little arms around my neck and I just lost it.

The boys have never seen me cry before, so they found it rather entertaining. “Crocodile tears, Teacher! Your tears are large like a crocodile!”

Ah shucks boys. That’s pretty cute I’m sure.

I just sat there and held my little Fermin for one of the last times for way too long and honestly kind of interrupted worship and so of course chaos went down and Wilfredo turned his chair around as he was rather over it and I’m sure Luis Migel caused some sort of havoc and so then I finally got control and we put them to bed and

being a mom to eight little jungle boys is the most challenging and wonderful thing I have ever done.

I’ve been preparing for this “kidless” life for a while now. I knew they were all going to head home, leaving the campus quiet and calm behind them.

But I didn’t know how badly I would miss them the second they left.

Today my last little Fruito Seco left. Little Rodrigo.

He stayed with me at Candace and Courtney’s house last night. We weren’t sure when, or if, his dad was coming to get him. I was secretly hoping I would get to keep him all break.

But early this morning Dani came into the room.

His dad’s here.

And so we woke up little Rodrigo, who was half-asleep and confused. And we took him to the house and packed up his bags. I gave him my student missions backpack as he had more stuff than he had room for in his little backpack and plastic bag. Also it’s red and he loves red.

I watched him walk off with it around his back. He walked over to his dad and gave him a big hug. And then I told him goodbye, tears streaming down my face, and then walked into an empty house.

No Hugo giggling.

No Ronald throwing his arms around me in a giant hug.

No Gabriel hammering things and making incessant noise.

No Luis Migel saying ridiculous things and being the ringleader of trouble.

No Henry knocking on my door, “Teacher! Teacher!”

No Wilfredo asking if he can go to the Frijole’s house.

No Fermin sitting up on the sink with his scrawny arms and legs, watching the world go by.

And no Rodrigo, that little bundle of joy, stomping around and smiling with his big brown eyes and little teeth.

And I cannot believe four months have gone by since I got here. And I cannot believe that I got to spend them these precious boys. And I cannot believe that in such a short amount of time someone can steal such a huge part of my heart.