How Important is a Hug?

I had a great run Oct. 30, finishing the Marine Corps Marathon 10K in 51:30, which is about an 8:20 pace. I ran alone, but felt good as I watched the scenery around me, inspired by the music playing and the people all around me.

 It was cold, but I was warm in my underarmour and my neon green Team 25:40 shirt. I had on matching neon green gloves that Hannah had gotten in a little shop in the Drakensburg Mountains in August. Wearing them brought my mind and heart back to South Africa.

 The run was surprisingly emotional for me. I kept thinking of Honey, a 6-year-old who attends Masonwabe Preschool at the Canzibe Mission. Our family was there in August to oversee the pre-school and a new after school care project that 25:40 funds.

 One day I gave a spontaneous hug to one of the more precocious kids at the pre-school and suddenly they all lined up to get hugs. But most of them did what Honey did – they did not hug back.

 This kind of affection is not displayed to children much in the South African Xhosa culture. Children come last. After children learn to walk and eat on their own, their parents or caregivers stop putting them first. At meal times, all the adults are served, eat and finish before the children can eat. Parents and caregivers typically don’t snuggle with their kids, kiss them goodnight, read them a book or play games with them. The children are basically on their own.  

 As you can imagine, this really is a huge psychological detriment to children. If they are not nurtured, how can we expect them to grow up feeling confident, loved, worthy? How can we expect them to treat their friends and classmates with respect and love? How can we expect them to grow up to become nurturing parents?

  As I was running, I wondered what has happened in Honey’s short 6 years that kills the instinct to hug someone back. I didn’t really want to think about that – what is lacking in her home that she is like a ball with no air, flat. Is she scared, or just not encouraged?

 I have discovered in the last 8 years of working in South Africa that things that are instinctive to you and me are not at all instinctive in other cultures. It makes our work so incredibly eye-opening and fascinating, but also challenging.

The run was beautiful and inspiring. A drum band played for us as we passed and their energy was contagious. Lots of good music blared from speakers along the way. It was easy to keep a good pace when I was only running 6.2 miles, not 26.2 miles like most everyone else!

 I saw a couple of amputees running on funny-looking prosthetics. They don’t make them like they did when my dad was hurt in the 1950s. The prosthetics these days don’t try to look human. They are made for performance. So the legs are skinny poles and the “feet” are shaped like hooks that spring. I wanted to run alongside one of veterans and ask them if they know my parents, who have spent the last 10 years visiting amputees at Walter Reed. But I was too awed by their commitment to run that I didn’t want to disturb them. Running seemed like really hard work to them. So then I gave thanks for being healthy and whole and able to run easily.

 It’s hard to run when you’re holding back tears.

 Many runners in the 10k and the marathon ran for soldiers and others who have served our country in Iraq and Afghanistan for the last decade. Pictures of loved ones were pinned to their shirts – loved ones who have died in service to our country. Every soldier has left behind family and scores of friends who are so saddened by their loss.

 Thousands of children in Africa die of hunger and disease everyday, leaving behind family devastated by their deaths. But these children are anonymous to us. How can such a small organization like 25:40 make a difference?

 If I had any doubt of what I was doing on my run, it all came into very clear focus as I reached mile 3. A Marine was standing at the mile marker with a small megaphone/speaker, calling out our times in a very steady 4-second cadence. As I approached mile 3, the Marine called out: 25:40.

 Sometimes God has to bonk me on the head to remind me that I’m meant to do this.

 I thought of the passion and commitment of the 25 members of Team 25:40 to run for a child they have never met or loved. I am so proud of our team – and others on the course — who ran for a cause bigger than themselves.

  This is what 25:40 is all about. To give a little of yourselves outside your comfort zone so that maybe little girls like Honey will see that they are valuable, loved, deserving of a hug. And if one little girl in rural South Africa believes in herself, think what she can do…