(5 October 2001) Roseville, Pretoria. My husband bought the kids a home of their own but things weren’t getting easier. The neighbors, although family orientated, was conservative and not welcoming at all. They complained from day one and finally someone drew up a petition to vote the kids out of the neigbourhood. Eveyone signed it accept for one local Priest, Cecil Hiscock. See Article 25 November 2001. The kids were impossible the media was told. They play chicken with on coming cars in the road, they jumped from the roof into the swimming pool, they begged at houses and sniffed glue on street corners, they dressed like hookers and swore worse than jail birds – and that is where they belong – in jail – it was said. They wanted them gone, “dumb them at an ash-heap far away from the city” One woman, a teacher, said, "I do not want these kids close to my own children." See article 4 December 2001 People love fairy tales, this became a horror story no one would support.
The welfare came around, and suggested that the environment was not ideal for babies to grow up in. What should I have done? What would they do? Have they a solution to the streetkids problem? Isn’t my problem actually theirs? Streetkids and babies do not mix, they said. They did not want the Streetkids, they wanted the babies, and one of those babies was my vey own fourth and youngest son. These caring authorities questioned my parental abilities. Outside individuals started looking inside, intending – or pretending – to help decide what is ‘in the best interest of the children’.
A Social worker was assigned to 'my case'. She was to evaluate me and my children while observing our time together from behind a glass window in a confined space, while I had to 'play and spend time' with each child as we would 'normally' do. Each evaluation took several hours. These strangers, prudent in their own sight, is to execute judgment. Will their judgments be established with justice, or are their thoughts frozen, clouded with ideas, formed and miss-formed by saucy propaganda making and selling much news?
One day, disaster struck by the flame of a match. The boys sniffed petrol. The girls wanted to teach them a lesson. All happened so fast, the care giver intervened minutes too late. Isak was set alight. The police came around, ambulance, paramedics, cops, neighbors. People stood outside the gate, staring, whispering, even screaming accusations of neglect. “The kids lack attention and authority” they said. “So why do you not volunteering your time?” I asked.
On the pavement the blond twelve year old shivered, shock and pain in his blue eyes, but no tears, his face and upper body covered in huge watery blisters. Facing the heaven’s above, I prayed: "Dear God, where would I find help?" Consumed with the responsibility I hardly had the energy to give the gossiping people any attention. When attacked from all corners, hold on to the Word of God. "Listen to me, you that know what is right, who have my teachings fixed in your hearts. Do not be afraid when people taunt and insult you" Isa 51:7
One angry man insisted that the kids should be removed. “Where too?” I asked. He executed judgment: "To a rubbish dumb for all I care, away from me and my family!” his breath in his nostrils. In other words, take them away, pretend they don't exist. Does he not realize that, if not helped now, these kids will infiltrate their precious suburb in less than 10 years, brake into their homes and cars, stand on their street corners? Not responding to him I argued with God instead: “Where does my responsibility start and stop? We have 4 children of our very own. We took upon us the responsibility of caring for the street kids because no one else wanted to. How long can we continue this, dear Lord? We need your help!"
The pressure was on. The police, Welfare Department, Media, Neighbors and everyone else that had something to say, pointed fingers, name calling, insinuations, accusations and questions. "Did you ask the neighborhood if you could start a Children's home here?" a man from the City Council asked looking stern, while making notes on his writing pad. “Dear Sir, in the beginning of this year I did not set my mind on running a Children's home, I wished for peace and prosperity!”
There I was with the children whom the Lord has given me, but I saw nothing but trouble and darkness, gloom and anguish. Although I felt weary and stumbled while walking in darkness, I was not afraid of people's threats, nor troubled, I saw a great light, and continued to hope in Him. When rumors should have ruined my life and – if true - prevented me from having contact with any children at all – the Holy Spirit touched my life and renewed my energy.
My reputation is in tack in the heavenly realm, no label hung around my neck could scare away children in need of love. Therefore I will not fear the open mouths and closed minds of vindictive enemies; and those who dwell in the midst of people of unclean lips, who call evil good and good evil, bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter, those who justify the wicked for a bribe. I have found my task and purpose on earth. I will do what is right in the eyes of my God!
"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, because the Lord has anointed Me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified." (Isaiah 61:1-3 NKJV) |
