Watercolors. It’s the one thing we knew we wanted to do again on this trip. We used them for the first time this fall, and all of us had stood back in awe of how quiet and focused the children became when they picked up those little brushes, dipped them in water, and started creating.

But, this time, we were told the afternoon we had planned to watercolor would be in the park instead of in a classroom with desks. It’ll work. It’ll work. Maybe my words to the team were intended more for myself; quite often they are. We bought a pack of paper cups and bottles of water. We packed up the 20 donated watercolor palettes we had carefully carried with us, hoping we’d have enough. We gathered the paper that would be their canvas. And, we prayed and smiled and walked across the street to meet the children.

In a big open courtyard, we settled in for the afternoon. As we sat in a big circle, my ukulele skills were tested as we sang Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes “faster, faster, faster.” And, the oldest child’s English skills were tested as I invited her to translate animals for us so we could sing Old Macdonald with input from the crowd. Some simple relay races were next, redefining what teamwork should look like. These teams of kids didn’t just cheer their teams on with jiāyóu; they came alongside each other, not with the more abled kids taking over and just doing it. Instead, kids who could helped kids who couldn’t so they could too.

It was wild and loud, and I found my It’ll works changing to How is this going to work? And, then it just did. Relays were over. Ayis laid out mats on the ground. And, we showed them what we had brought. Eyes were wide. Some hands clapped. I worried that we’d have enough. The oldest girl came to me, offering to help as she often does. With her helping, there were 20 kids left to participate, the exact number of palettes we had brought. All became quiet as each child picked up the brush and started creating.

Flowers and rainbows. Fluffy clouds and sunshine and houses with happy faces.

Each child focused in his or her own way. And, we got to see something amazing happen. People started to gather. A crowd started to form. A crowd that was focused on them, not because they looked different, not because they pitied them, but because they wanted to be a part of the beauty that was happening. It was irresistible.

Beauty was magnified that afternoon in that city park. What a joy that we got to be a part of it.

In this place, there are 16 of them there, 16 women who care for 25 children. Every month, they receive a little less than $270 per child for fulfilling the job requirements of foster mother. But, for the women we met, we could tell that it’s really more than a job to them.

It’s standing in the gap for children who have no one.

It’s sometimes a willingness to go back to a job she did in younger years and focus all her energy for the sake of a child or two who need her.

It’s showing off baby pictures on your phone and cute videos of your children singing and being willing to be child-like and silly to try to coax a smile (after all, that’s what mamas do).

It’s teaching the lonely that they don’t have to be lonely and that they are cared for and can care for others.

It’s saying yes when others turn their backs.

It’s a lot of hand holding…

…often until that same warm hand waves goodbye so the child can have a future and take the hand of another.

Photos credited to Nicole Renee of Living Out His Love.