Let Your Heart Be Broken - Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of ...

page 12JourneyFall 2008He wore a blue shirt, with red,yellow and green patches, andstretched his arms out to mine.He wanted to be held.My heart breaks each time I thinkabout that little boy in an orphanagein Tanzania.And I never even learned hisname.It’s now been more than a yearsince I returned from a trip to Africa,part of an assignment from TheTimes-Tribune to see the work of theAfrican Sisters Education Collaborativefirsthand.The stories have been published,the photos shared. My passport istucked inside a drawer, and my visashave expired.The assignment is over. But Ican’t get Africa out of my mind.My assignment was one that alljournalists dream about. I spent oneweek in Tanzania and Uganda withMarywood University’s president,Sister Anne Munley, I.H.M., Ph.D.,and Ann Henry, vice president ofMarywood’s Board of Trustees. I wasinvited to go on the trip during aninterview with Sister Munley aboutASEC, the mission formed by fourcongregations and their colleges toeducate African sisters about leadership,technology, and other importantsubjects. My editors loved the idea,and soon I was getting my shots,applying for visas in New York City,and booking my flights.I was not just going to writeabout the mission of the collaborative.I was going to see it firsthand. I wasnot prepared for what I was about tosee.We went to orphanages and AIDSclinics, villages and markets, andspent two days at a school for girls.I saw people beg on the streetsBut I Never Realized...and mothers walking miles to fill apitcher of water. I had seen photosand news reports from Third Worldcountries, but I never realized thereality of it until I saw it with my owneyes. There really are children whoaren’t able to shoo the flies away fromtheir eyes. There really are entirefamilies that live in mud huts, with nowater or electricity.Life expectancy in Uganda is 52years. More than 4.1 percent of thepopulation is HIV-positive, accordingto The World Factbook. Statistics arealso grave in Tanzania, where 8.8 percentof the population is HIV-positive.For the last 22 years, the conflict innorthern Uganda between the rebelLord’s Resistance Army and the governmenthas led to the displacementof more than 1 million people. Thearmy is known for its use of childsoldiers, having abducted more than30,000 children during the war.Each night, as I lay in a bed underneathmy mosquito net,my emotions ran wild.Some nights I cried,other nights I felt so muchgratitude and gratefulnessfor my life back in theU.S.After one week, Icame back to Scranton,eager to share my experienceswith readers. Iwrote a three-day seriesand a column. Each daythe paper printed an entirepage of my photographs,and a video I made waspublished online.Less than three weeks after myreturn, I married my high schoolsweetheart. Even with the joy I felt asI looked over the Great Smoky Mountainsfrom our honeymoon cabin, Istill thought about those children’sfaces and how I could be so lucky.I grew up like many American childrendo. I never had to worry aboutfood on the table or a roof over myhead. I went to a good high school,attended sports camps in the summerand had my own car at age 17.Although I spent only a week inAfrica, I was exposed to an entirelynew culture and saw things that I willnever forget.For me, going to Africa was aStudents and sisters at the Bigwa School in Tanzania.Sarah Hofius Hall and Tanzanian boy.by Sarah Hofius Hallwake-up call. I needed to see that tobecome a better person. I think thatto truly know and understand oneselffully, one must also know and understandthe lives of others around theworld.I saw true selflessness with the sistersand in many of the African peopleI met. The sisters do so much withwhat little they have. I should be ableto do more with all that I have. Thesisters I met are truly an inspiration tome, and are women I admire.I also learned the meaning of dedicationat the Bigwa Sisters SecondarySchool in Morogoro, Tanzania. The350 students at the school came therefrom across the country in hopes ofbetter lives for themselves and theirpeople. At Mass, their harmoniousvoices gave me chills and a sense ofinner peace. In the year since I spenttime there, the girls now have Internetaccess, which opens up a world of opportunities.When I’m having a rough day, Igo through my photos from Africa. Isee the children’s smiling faces outsidethe Tanzanian orphanage and the glowingfaces of the students at Bigwa.Those photos put my life into perspective.I have promised myself that oneday I will return to Africa. I want tomake a difference, perhaps as a journalist,perhaps as a volunteer.Maybe I will once again find theboy who reached his arms out to mine.I want to learn his name.Sarah Hofius Hall is a journalist forThe Times-Tribune in Scranton. Sheresides in Dunmore, Pennsylvania.