And it messed me up.
It was about 23 year old Tara Winkler and her Cambodian orphanage.
Amazing girl. Amazing kids. (watch it here)
And I was so jealous. All I could think was…that should be me.
Isn’t that horrible?
When I headed off to Guatemala last year I honestly thought I might not come back. Maybe even hoped not. After struggling for a few years to decide what to do with my life, and after having the street children of Latin America on my heart for even more years, it felt like after taking this step of faith that it would all fall into place – that I would find my niche, that I would find my purpose. I was happy with the idea of spending my life looking after a bunch of kids that no one cared about.
But it didn’t turn out like that. I didn’t get better, I got sicker. Way sicker.
So here I am. In Australia. Studying. And life is good, and I can appreciate the value of preparation, of the how what I am learning now will be useful one day so that when I get the chance to help some kids I can help them in the very best way possible, and I realise if I don’t look after my health now…well what use am I dead.
But sometimes it just feels so pointless…as interesting as it is writing essays about Hiroshima and reading about international politics, I am losing motivation. I miss my Guatemalan girls and want to be doing something now about the injustices.
I am jealous of Tara. My age, and not just talking about helping, just doing it.