poem ~ mission trip

I went on a humanitarian mission trip
and I saw with my own eyes,
The horrific horror and circumstance 
that people have just to try to live their daily lives.

Walking three to twenty miles or more
just to get to the water resources there, 
That lay deep in the ground  
not like us in a pipe from town.

Seventeen days in Kotido Uganda
with only one full meal a day,
That consisted of rice, beans and greens
prepared in the same fashionable way.

We only ate meat one day
for this is considered quite the treat,
And so was the fresh pineapple
that we got on market street.

It's hard to fathom how one lives
in such meager of ways,
When your used to eating all you want
in food consumption all your days.

Their huts are about five feet deep
and sleep four to fourteen each,
In a small circumference they sleep
with no blankets or pillows as they rest their feet.

We washed our clothes out by hand
in a bucket with some soap,
For even this was the classy way
when most do it in the mud hole with sand.

I can't tell you what this trip meant to me
to see how they live in such simplicity, 
Yet it forever changed my world view
when I looked into their eyes anew.

As they intently look at you
with a deep longing for hope,
To help them fight off disease and death
as they work to build another sand dam yet.

They can't hide their appreciation and love
for all that's been done for them,
So they sing and dance for you
as a simple way to say Thank You!

I promise if you could go
and see it for yourself,
There are no words for what it does
when you experience this firsthand.

My heart will always be with them 
for all they have to live through,
And the things we take for granted
in the abundant life we have here in America too. 

© Misty W Gilbert
#Poems #AuthorLife #MistyWGilbert #TheSassyVoice #MissionTrip #CleanWater #ForOneAnother #VolunteerWork #Philanthropy #CharityWork #GiveBack  #Uganda

poem ~ my story

I had to unfriend you
because of the words that you said
Of the things your Mother did
as they lodged inside my head.

I don't think you realize 
how hard it is to be,
A Mother of children
and that we're trying as hard as can be.

I appreciate your perspective 
but I don't think you understand, 
That no matter how difficult the task
there's no need for abusive hands.

To make a child deal with 
match burning of your siblings feet,
And turn your bedroom into a prison cell 
with no option to be treated differently. 

To force your child to eat food
beyond their capabilities, 
And to make it taste absolutely nasty
to try to bring repentance materially.

To lock a child in the room
just to try to bring them to their knees,
Because you feel when discipline doesn't work
the intensity must become beyond extreme. 

To take away everything 
your daughter thoroughly adored,
And focus on treating her like a slave 
doing all the family chores.

To remove all pretty clothing, 
jewelry, books and hobbies too
And make her live a life
with nothing fun to wear or do.

To make her scarred she might be pregnant 
or even worse have aids,
And demand that she get tested
every one hundred and eighty days.

You threaten that if this is true
you'll kick her out for sure,
Making her life more miserable by taking away
the medicine she was given for a cure.

You deny her the celebration 
of her monumental eighteenth birthday,
All the while ostracizing her 
from the family dinner table camaraderie's.

You take away her drivers license
and change all bank accounts too, 
For you believe she must be a thief
for any of this to be true.

You destroyed all her baby pictures 
declaring she's no longer your beautiful child,
Telling her no man would ever want her
since she's now a thoroughly used product. 

You state she won't get married
in a white wedding dress,
For the only color appropriate 
is a black one that will fit the occasion best.

You inflicted 7 years of reaping
since all of this came about,
From a man 28 years older that
raped and took her virginity out.

You believe for me to share my story
and how I have overcome all of this,
Means that I'm not healed 
and to talk of this is too much a risk.

Yet I believe if you look and see
these circumstances have made me who I be,
And to have forgiven my Mother
doesn't mean I must keep my story undercover. 

Forgiveness doesn't mean 
there still aren't life long affects,
That have to be dealt with
as I live with memories I can never forget.

I'm sorry that you don't see
that I'm happy since being made free,
And that I absolutely have no regrets
of leaving home without my parents blessing me.

I'm glad to know 
the real reason you unfriended me,
Even though it hurts 
as to the perspective that you see.

I hope someday you'll see
that to share your horrific story, 
Doesn't mean that your not healed
or that you've not forgiven the ones abusing thee.

But no matter your perspective yet
I'll live the truth without regret,
For I know what I've received
by loving those who intentionally hurt me.

I've got a story I have to share
to help others stuck in despair,
For I know what life can be
when you live in freedom authentically.

© Misty W Gilbert
#Poems #AuthorLife #MistyWGilbert #TheSassyVoice #MyStory #TheLifeOfMisty #YourStoryMatters #YourLifeMatters