The Candy Store – A Big Mistake

It was a bright sunny day this afternoon so I thought, “Wouldn’t it be fun to go to the park and post office with a few of the children.” All was wonderful until….Marc found a 2 liter Coca-Cola bottle in a trash can. Then there was a mad dash to the bottle and, of course, the fastest boy won (don’t worry – there were only boys!) I have never seen a single coke bottle disrupt the irenic spirit of an afternoon like it did today.

It turns out that two-liter bottles can be exchanged for 2 rand at most convenient stores – this is the kind of money worth fighting for (you know 30 cents!). So, I ended up making sure everyone had at least one rand and after our run up the mountain I decided the boys had been so much fun I’d let them stop and choose their own pieces of candy as a reward – that was the big mistake – never take prepubescent children to a candy store – what was I thinking.

After perusing the shop and discovering 1-2 rand would only buy a few pieces of candy, one of the children screamed, “Games!! Over here. Games!” Instantly, there was chaos. They were fighting over who could play the first game machine – when of course there were ample machines for everyone to play. Then the youngest boy lost early on and started crying and sobbing to the clerk who refused to give him a refund because “the game cheated.” Then I refused to give him more money as well. Then, he figured out that he had no more money left for candy – and we went through the whole routine again – the clerk said no, I said no, his brother said no – you think he’d get the hint. When we arrived back at the church (home), Dan continued screaming and crying followed by a 2 hour long pouting episode.

Soon after, Olga got home from work and Dan snapped at her – for absolutely no reason. Then, I almost snapped at him – but thank goodness I didn’t. I had to discipline him then simply leave him crying and screaming as Olga and I went out to fetch some groceries for supper. When we returned all the kids were running and playing and the earth was rotating correctly again.

Being strict with Dan and disciplining him (again) later that night was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do since I’ve been here. But it really needed to be done. Quite frankly Dan acts like a very spoiled child – but how in the world can I describe a refugee boy who has lost his mom (and his dad only spends 3 hours a week with) without a home as spoiled? Dan’s older brother may be the answer to this frustration – that I share with Olga. Marc just might be the most mature 9 year old boy I have ever met. When we’re not around Marc cooks for his brother, cleans up for his brother, and time after time covers for Dan so he doesn’t get in trouble. The problem is that Marc never ever complains about anything. If we ask Dan to put his dishes away or take the trash out – Dan simply disappears – but it always gets done because Marc always does it. So, the pattern is clear…yet, Olga and I are making very slow progress in breaking this pattern.

The beautiful thing is that the next 2 days Dan has voluntarily swept the floor twice, made his bed, and picked up the cushions after the nightly pillow fight. I was scared for a few hours that Dan would never talk to me again and now he seems to love me more than before. And Olga is a great influence on me as she is teaching me not ever to feel sorry for them – and she certainly has earned the right to speak as a child/young woman who has experienced a village worth of pain and loss all by herself.

Sometimes big mistakes really need to be made. I wish I made more.