Children of Mankindu

The bus slows to a stop, shy of the gate,

Then, a living river, hundreds pour through

Not a sound of the walk-weary waits,

But a chorus of pure, bright "karibu".

Excitement in every wave and run,

A warmth that the Kenyan sun has begun,

In a spirit of welcome second to none.

They embraced us with such hunger and grace,

[chorus]

Longing for touch in this hallowed place.

Small hands in ours, a fleeting caress,

A simple connection, a deep tenderness.

A formal program, then, where stories reside,

Of the Center's deep efforts, and community pride.

Explanations given, clear and sincere,

Of the difference made, year after year.

The air then fills with rhythm and rhyme,

Music and dancing, across space and time.

A vibrant display, a joyful, bright sound,

As the grace of the children on the earth is found.

[chorus]

Longing for touch in this hallowed place.

Small hands in ours, a fleeting caress,

A simple connection, a deep tenderness.

Then lunch shared together, laughter and light,

Connecting with hearts shining honest and bright.

A moment of meeting, of purpose and grace,

With the children of Makindu, in this cherished place.

[chorus]

Longing for touch in this hallowed place.

Small hands in ours, a fleeting caress,

A simple connection, a deep tenderness.