Invention cookies, back scratches and name changes

Sorting out a school schedule when a lot of the missionary’s and kids have come down with a tummy bug and the education laws not being as red taped as the UK calls for CANCEL SCHOOL for the day. My initial first thoughts were “oww I was actually looking forward to teaching natural resources to the grade 7 Geography group” (no saracasm included I genuinely was) I think my grade 4 History class were thinking YAY 1 more day to do our homework (hmmm) so anyway a bunch of the kids had wanted to do some baking and seen as the two great bakers were amoung the sick it fell down to myself. Now I don’t bake, well I do, but not well, so instead we made invention cookies, I managed to make a basic dough (okay okay it was a packet of cookie mix) and then divided it amoungst the kids and I said you can put whatever you would like in your cookie as long as it was edible. They went crazy, some were chopping onions, others getting bread, crisps and one even sprinkled on left over rice.


We baked them and everyone was so excited and intrigued to try them.

(This face says it all)

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I was happy to leave them to it and cosied up with a coffee and my own invention cookie (a little peanut butter) while they all munched on their onion, tomato and rice infused cookies.

Lots of fun and surprisingly every last crumb was polished off.

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Monday nights are my night to put the boys to bed. I treasure this time as it’s such an important part of your childhood. Well it was mine anyway, being tucked up read a story, praying together and just giving them that nurture and quality time.
When I come in I always start with a breath check, what is it with boys and not wanting to brush their teeth, I mean I swear they actually spend more time pretending to bush their teeth whereas if they actually brushed them they would have longer to chill but hey. I always then do a story, but I let them make it up. I create the base but they are the ones who come up with the characters etc. I always have to try and swirve the story in some direction as it tends to always end in snot, poop or being eaten by a snake. Not the nicest end to the day lol. I then spend time tucking each of them in individually and they ALL want a back scratch, it’s sweet how even the 11 year olds want this and I genuinely feel privileged that I get to do this and be part of their lives and upbringing. We then pray and it’s so humbling how they always choose to pray for one of their brothers or sisters someone worse off in the world. I learn so much from them and no matter how hard up you feel or whatever you may be going through you are always better off than someone else there is always someone more sad, ill or poor than you. So again I would encourage you all the thankful in all circumstances.

(A few of the boys the next morning as didn’t want to take pics of them in their pjs)

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I so enjoy my time in one of the townships where I teach Mpho.

We have been working more on writing his name. This proves rather difficult as each time I have come and taught him the other village kids tell me a different version of how to spell his name. It has gone from “Mempo” to “Mpo” and is now “Mpho” with no disrespect if I go next week and they something different I will say tough and we are sticking with “Mpho” especially as he has basically mastered this version.

I am so proud of him and to see the other kids cheering him on is so incredible. When I first arrived Mpho was described as the “retard” of the slum so to see the other kids perspective of him change a little is so exciting.

(he really is my star)

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I love going to this township, the children are so excited, not because I’ve brought them food, or games to play but that they get to see their friend learn and have an education like everybody else.

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Again I learn so much from the kids here, the way they put others before themselves, encourage and protect one another.

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I write this while sat in the treehouse. I love living in community here, where every living second your surrounded by children, children knocking on your door, shouting out your name or clinging to you for sweets or just to hang out. So “hiding” is too strong a word but it’s 5pm and I have come up here to write this post otherwise weeks go by and I won’t have a second to write. But just as I write that a couple of the kids have come up asking where I’ve been, they are now leaning against me asking what I’m writing. I love that I get to do life with them, that I am constantly being hugged, tugged at and leant on.

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Raising children here is beautiful and I am so thankful for their beauty from the moment I wake up to tucking them into bed at night.

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