Our foundation supports a preschool in the Matola-Santos
community, located near our factory and home. This preschool is directed by
none other than our wonderful Berta. She started the preschool about a year and
a half ago. At this time, most of the children in her community project
attended school in the morning, so the project children left at her house in
the mornings were mostly preschoolers. Therefore, it only made sense to create
a preschool for these little ones.
In the beginning, it was lovely. There were only
nine children in the preschool. I loved going there to sing, play, and squeeze
their chubby little cheeks.
Yet each time I went there, it seemed to me that
they were multiplying. Nine turned into 13; 13 turned into 19, and so it
continued until one day I stopped to count… I counted 29 children! This is when
I had my “less is more” talk with Berta. There was only one teacher for these
29 children. They had nothing available to them. No toys. No books. No crayons.
Not even chairs to sit on. These dearies sat and slept on the cement floor of
an outside area. I spoke with Berta about how difficult it is for one teacher to
meet the needs of 29 two-, three- and four-year olds. Yet Berta would look at
me with her sad, puppy dog eyes and say, “But in my heart I cannot say no to
them.” She knew that by helping these children, she was helping their parents.
She gave the children a safe place to learn, play, and nap while the parents
were free to then go out and work to earn much needed money to support their
families. So since Berta could not turn any needy child away, I decided I had
better help her transform her heart’s desire into a viable solution.
Last January, we covered the cost for her and 4 women who
would be her teachers to attend a two-week preschool teacher training workshop.
They learned how to manage a classroom and teach a preschool curriculum. We
then purchased this curriculum and provided a workbook for each student in the
preschool.
Berta then held an official registration for children and before I
knew it, she had 4 full classes of children containing 20-25 children in each
class. They started their lessons in late January 2016. Throughout this past
year, it has been the highlight of my weeks to go and visit this preschool. I
enter through the gate to be mauled by 100 children who almost knock me to the
ground as they swarm me and wrap themselves around my legs. I make sure to
physically connect with each and every child with a kiss, a hug or a touch in
some way. Their love and exuberant joy fill me with love and joy as well. Our
foundation has helped in many ways this year with many different projects to
improve the preschool. I also try to get there as often as possible, not just
to garner hugs, but to teach Bible lessons with a craft or to sing a song or
tell a story.
We have completed a variety of projects including opening up the rooms by removing the dividing wall, adding a window and a ceiling fan, and painting the walls. Thanks to generous donors, we provided toys, watercolors, pencils, crayons, books...all the things that help the children learn and play.
Fast forward to December 3, 2016. Berta scheduled a
graduation ceremony for the five-year-old class. We literally arranged our
plane tickets to return back to Mozambique after celebrating Thanksgiving with
our family in the US just to attend this special day. It meant everything to
Berta. The graduation was to begin at 9:00 am. Almost every event here occurs
in what we term “Mozambican Time”. When a time is given, you can count on the
fact that nothing will happen until one to two hours later. This happens with workmen
who are coming to your house, public events, meetings, and even weddings. I
left my house at 8:20 to begin the short drive to Berta’s. At 8:25 I got a call
from her asking if I would soon arrive. I found this strange seeing that the
graduation was not scheduled to begin until 9. Add in the fact that this is
Mozambique. I really believed I had lots of time and could not understand why
she was so concerned about how close I was to the preschool. A few minutes
later I arrived at Berta’s, parked my car, walked down the short lane to her
house, and pulled open the large sliding metal gate to enter her property. I
was shocked beyond belief to see before me rows and rows of parents lined up in
plastic chairs quietly waiting for the graduation to begin. There was not a
seat left! And it was only 8:34!! I sheepishly passed by them to enter into the
preschool building. There before me stood two lines of five-year-olds dressed
in their finest clothes. Everyone was ready to start…they were all waiting on
me!! I did a sweep of the room to locate Berta. At first I did not see her, but
then I did a double take. I could hardly recognize her! She was beautifully
dressed in a smart white blouse and a capulana that matched with all of her teachers'. Her hair was a new style for
her that made her look so fashionable. She had gone all out to look her best.
After a quick hug, she shooshed me off to a chair in the audience, and the
ceremony began.
Music blared from the stereo as 25 five-year-olds came
marching out with their hands waving in the air. Their teachers, all wearing
matching capulanas around their waists, and Berta proudly entered in with them.
They assembled before us in two lines- girls in the front and boys in the back.
A message was shared with the parents by a young man from Berta’s church. He
spoke to the parents about the critical responsibility they have to teach their
children in godly ways. This was followed by the children singing the National
Anthem of Mozambique. Every day in every school in Mozambique begins the
children lining up outside of their classrooms singing the anthem. And this is
a good thing too…because Mozambique has to have the longest anthem of all the
countries in the world! The children’s singing was of course lovely, but soon,
the children from Berta’s project who had gathered to watch joined in, and this
was followed by the parents. For me, this was one of those, “I can’t believe I
am here in Africa and having this experience” moments. It left me in awe.
The ceremony continued with a series of activities where the
children displayed what they had learned during the past year. Each of the 25
children went to a chalkboard one by one and wrote their name. Each child was
rewarded with a round of enthusiastic applause by the assembly of proud of
parents. This may not sound like a big deal to us Westerners, but here in
Mozambique, it is a BIG thing for a preschooler to know how to write their
name. Many children do not complete first grade knowing how to do this. The
children continued on with letter and color recognition and even role played
occupations they wanted to be when they grew up. As I watched the parents watch
their children, I was amused by how many were recording the ceremony with their
phones and electronic tablets. We Americans get busted on all the time for
viewing our children’s accomplishments through the lens of a camera instead of
just sitting and enjoying the moment. Let me tell you…we have nothing over the Mozambicans!!
The children then marched back into the building to don
their graduation garb. They returned to the performance area wearing caps and
gowns.
Each child was awarded a diploma and a present bag to mark this special
accomplishment in their lives. The ceremony concluded with the usual round of
speeches by the director, Berta, the teachers, the cheffe of the area, and by
me, the madrinha, or patron, of the preschool. They love their speeches here!
The event concluded with a feast of food for the children, who were served at
little tables, and their parents, who gathered around the food table and helped
themselves to all that was left.
Berta and I stood back and just watched everyone gathering
to share a meal and celebrate the accomplishments of their children. We took in
the sight before us with a humble pride. What began with nine little ones had
grown into this! A lot of sweat, tears, discussions, and efforts had gone into
this moment in time. And it felt oh so good to see the fruit of our labor
before us.
