Myet

Myet

       When I was four years old, my mom took her first trip with the Adera Foundation to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I remember the day she took off, leaving me standing at the airport gate to wonder what could possibly be more important than me. 

       My mom returned from this trip with newfound excitement and invigoration, but some sadness as well. As I sat in her lap, swiping through pictures of her smiling and embracing children, I felt a selfish sense of jealousy, knowing I had missed out on such a big part of her life.

       There was one boy whose picture we always seemed to come back to. His name is Myet, and my mom first met him as a one-year old in the Adera Daycare. There was a never-ending flow of stories about this particular boy. My mom told me how he could build the highest block towers of all and how he would smile every time she walked into the room and how much she wished I could meet him. After her trip, our family began sponsoring him through the Adera Foundation. A picture of Myet smiled at me from our refrigerator. He had the biggest, brownest eyes I had ever seen, which I always met with a glare. Suddenly, a stranger from across the world had become my mortal enemy in the battle for my mom’s affections. 

       After eleven years of passing Myet’s picture, my mom took my sister and I back to Ethiopia with her. In less than 24 hours, my world turned upside down. We were thrown into a torrent of new experiences, including van rides that should almost certainly have ended in wrecks and mysterious sauces that left our mouths on fire. But the hardest part of the trip was the feeling of helplessness. I will never forget the sight of starving mothers with babies tied to their backs lined up on street corners or the lame beggars who crawled up to our van. It was hard to see how Adera was making any difference at all.

       At dinner that night, all our hearts were heavy, discouraged by the overwhelming feeling of poverty all around us. Sensing our despair, Julie Miller, Adera Executive Director, told us a story that sticks with me to this day.

       “One day, an old man was walking on a beach covered in hundreds and thousands of starfish. The tide had just gone out, and they had all been left behind on the beach to die. He shook his head sadly as he passed by.

       Then, he came across a little boy. One by one, the little boy picked up starfish and hurled them back into the ocean. The old man watched, perplexed. Finally, he walked over to the boy and said, ‘What are you doing? You’ll never be able to save all of them.’

       The little boy picked up another starfish and threw it into the waves. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I can save that one.’”

       Four years later, it still brings tears to my eyes. The hardships in Addis Ababa do not have an easy fix. For every child that the Adera Foundation feeds, there are hundreds more who go hungry. But Adera is making a difference. One child at a time, they are changing lives.

       On the second day of our trip, we were told that we would see Myet at Trinity, the school that children in the Adera program attend. On the van ride there, my mom squirmed with excitement, and we set out looking for him the moment we arrived. When we walked into his classroom, I recognized him in an instant from the pictures. My mom hovered in the doorway. As soon as he saw her, Myet’s face lit up and he leapt up out of his chair. She gave him a tight hug, and tears sprung from his eyes. They couldn’t get very far in conversation beyond “hello” and “how are you,” but they had smiles so big their faces ached. After witnessing their reunion, I never again doubted that the Adera Foundation is making a difference.