-as told to Eileen O’Connor
When I learned that my family planned to volunteer at an orphanage in Africa, I was excited for the opportunity but wondered how I could participate in any kind of meaningful way.
My older sister had visited Mainsprings, a home and school for abused and abandoned girls in Tanzania, the year before and spoke passionately about her experience. I loved hearing her stories of playing soccer, gardening, and cooking with students of all ages, but wondered what I could contribute to this special community.
I live with a rare condition called Friedreich’s Ataxia and rely on a wheelchair, as well as the help of family, friends, and aides to move through the day. Almost more than the ability to walk, I miss being able to participate in the small details of community life. I’d love nothing more than to prepare a meal with my friends, to set a table, and to fill their glasses.
While I was intrigued about visiting a place that left such a lasting impression on my sister, I couldn’t help but feel I had little to offer.
From the first moment we arrived at Mainsprings, however, my concerns began to fade. The girls were just so happy we were there. When they saw Catherine they ran to hug her. They couldn’t believe that someone would come back to see them — that someone remembered them. I told them that we talked about them all the time, which made them smile.
I forgot my concerns about not being able to help as the girls asked me to read to them and tell them stories about my life. We talked about everything. They asked my favorite animal, my favorite color, my happiest memory.
A pair of four-year-old twins took turns sitting on my lap. They kept asking my dad to lift them up to sit with me. I could have held them all day. Some days I did.
It didn’t matter that I was in a wheelchair. It’s as if they didn’t notice. I don’t know if that is because they have seen and experienced so much at such a young age, or if their eyes and hearts just have a different focus, but they seemed only to see someone who wanted to spend time with them. Students at Mainsprings don’t have phones or devices of any kind. While they marveled at the animated, photoshop features on my Snapchat and couldn’t believe I could take pictures and play music on my phone, I was awestruck by the power of their connections in real time. For them, Facetime really is just that: face time.
Coming from a place where we have so much, it was amazing to see how happy they were just to be with each other. Here my friends and I generally get together to do something, we go to dinner or a movie, a party, or a concert. There they are just happy to be together, to sing songs, play music, and just hang around together.
The entire Mainsprings community is highly attuned to each other’s needs. Older students step in to care for younger girls, and they all instinctively extended that sensitivity to me. If some- thing was out of reach or if I needed help moving through the campus, one of the girls always appeared to help.
While the students have few possessions or amenities, they are joyful and grateful for who and what they have — and they are eager to give back. One of the students told me that when she graduates, she wants to become a
doctor so she can return to the village to help the people who raised her. I will never forget her resolve, compassion, and understanding that sometimes the most powerful way to contribute is to show up, to be present, and to care.
Annie Hamilton grew up in Rye, graduated from Sacred Heart in Greenwich, Conn., and is a sophomore at The University of Notre Dame. As an ambassador for FARA, the Friedreich’s Ataxia Research Alliance, she meets with doctors, scientists, and pharma- ceutical companies to help spur research and to find a cure. She also speaks with high school, col- lege, and graduate students to share her unique perspective and experience living with FA. Mainsprings provides education and holistic support services to abused and abandoned girls in Tanzania. Its network of Joseph and Mary schools serve more than 400 students from early childhood through secondary school, while nearly 50 girls live full time on its campus.
