ce ai spus?

tonight when i got home, i don't even remember where i was looking, but i saw a picture of little child holding a loved baby sibling. and i might have teared up a little.
i realize it's only been one day, but it feels like a month's worth of experience in just this day. the first day, with many more like it to follow. and i think that's what scares me, but also excites me. the fact that this was only the first day, and i'm going to have millions more experiences before i'm done, which seems almost impossible. can you reach a saturation point with new, peculiar, and/or memorable experiences? apparently not.
no one was kidding when they said this was hard. in case anyone was under the slightest pretense before that this is a study abroad, meaning study a little, sight see and enjoy life in a foreign city a lot, that rumor could officially be put to rest. being in romania is work. hard work. calling it a study abroad and comparing it to what the other study abroad programs (at byu, at least) do, would be an insult to its name. this isn't easy. or always fun. in fact, usually it's quite the opposite. long days. hard days. moments that make you question why you even came. and yet, our time here has nothing to do with us. has nothing to do with me. being here is not about me, and it's not about my group. it's about the people we serve, and the lives we influence while here working, ideally influencing for the better.
it could be easy to brush it off. to think of it from an outside perspective, as just playing with kids. that would be easy. just not thinking about what we do, or not thinking about the lives we are surrounded by. just thinking of it as just another kid to play with and then go home when our time is up.
but. that's what makes it hard. and that's what makes it meaningful.  i think the most meaningful things in life are always the hardest. it's the getting through it that makes it meaningful.
i had a lot of moments today that i just kept thinking to myself, 'this isn't fair.' this child/these children, are so pure and innocent. some of the kids in section 2 have no idea as to the potential that exists in this world. and yet, for them, there is very little potential for a life better than what they have. some of those we visited in the hospital only left heaven a few weeks ago. some a few months. and yet they are lying in a hospital crib, with no one to change their too-full diaper. no one to hold them when their hiccups just won't go away. no one to hold them when they cry for any reason at all. no one to wipe off the extra milk/formula caught in the creases of their baby skin that has crusted over, from being there so long. no one to visit them as they lay sick in a hospital bed. no one to make them smile and giggle from interaction. to blow on their face gently, or caress their skin. no one to love them. instead they are there alone, besides when we come through. and we see them only temporarily. long enough to hold them for awhile, if allowed. and/or just change their diaper and let them hold a finger for awhile.
on the bright side, copii fără mama were not very plentiful today. we found only three on one floor, and another pair of girls from the group found just one on another floor. i was fearing there would be more than we could imagine, at least one on each floor we're allowed to visit, if not more. it's sad when three and one are small numbers when it comes to children without mothers. when we leave, there's no one else to visit. no one who will come to take them home when they start to feel better. no one.
this is a heartbreaking work. but the pure and genuine smiles and laughter coming from the sweet innocence of a child? almost completely replaces the sadness in their story. the story of their lives. almost.