Two weeks ago my plane landed in Philadelphia, Pa. Egypt feels surreal, ancient and incredibly distant,
as if it exists in a dream or in another lifetime. I find pictures very helpful, to remind me of faces and moments shared.
They help my friends, too, who sometimes tell me they had no way to imagine me in Egypt. There is no easy or tidy way to
end these things, but I have had a good share of good-byes and hellos in the past few weeks, and believe in acknowledging
endings and beginnings. And as I find myself realizing again and again that what I miss about Egypt, what will remain in
me most clearly, is the girls at the orphanage (my home), I will end this blog with a prayer for them.
So often at a loss for words or a way to begin to pray, I find myself wanting liturgies, the words of others to
guide my thoughts. But I want a prayer for orphans, and while such prayers probably exist, a few weeks ago I did not have
access to many libraries, so I wrote my own prayer. There are probably better prayers, but for now, here are the best words
I can find to express what I want – and what I want to want – for my friends, and my sisters, to whom I am more grateful
than I will ever be capable of expressing.
A Prayer for Orphans
God, give them new families.
Give them surrogate mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers,
aunts, grandparents, uncles.
Give them friends and neighbors who care.
Introduce them to people of passion,
mercy and commitment.
Make them friends with artists, musicians, priests,
jugglers, doctors and teachers.
God, yes, thank you for food,
but thank you also for paintbrushes and footballs,
for ice cream cones and for sunsets,
for the freedom to laugh,
for the tiny moments that hold us together.
For hand-clap games.
And God please help us to change
the large forces that fight against us.
For my sisters the orphans, God,
may governments become their servants.
May education empower them.
May religion be their true advocate.
May war pass over them,
art not forget them,
history remember them.
May medicine be placed in their service
and economies include them equally.
May families of all kinds welcome them.
When they grow up, God, continue to give them hardships such as these:
the drudgery of house work and the kitchen,
that they may always have homes and food;
the boredom of quiet towns and uneventful cities,
that they may live in places of peace;
the knowledge of their husbands' faults,
that they may have long and intimate marriages;
the pain of childbirth,
that they may become the mothers they never had.
Give them forgiveness and generosity,
that they may overcome the selfishness that has wounded them.
Give them humor,
that they may have joy and pleasure in all circumstances.
Give them imagination,
that they may have resources and new beginnings at all times.
Give them confidence,
that they may overcome the lie the world tells about them.
And when they are delivered, give them memory,
that they may see the redemption in their story,
and know its importance.
God, I thank you for their courage,
and I pray that they would not become numb,
but that they would know, in the pain of their great loss,
a great love, both in the giving and receiving.
If you wish to send greetings to Andrea, contact Amanda Thompson at MCC East Coast, aet@mcc.org.
