Student Publishing Program ::

Hadley Kyle

Garden Compound

Then we arrived at Garden Compound.
They greeted us with welcoming song,
their bodies swayed back and forth: to the steady rhythm of each clap.
Little kids stared at our hair,
teeth,
skin.
They touched our hands and watched us
as we walked curiously through their tiny poor school.
We were so excited to be taken in so kindly by them.
Their smiles never faded.

They showed us their games,
and we showed them ours.
Their smiles never faded.

They grabbed my hand from the bus as we were leaving,
pulling me out of the window
with their compassionate love.
Their smiles never faded.

Their hands felt dry,
wet,
clammy,
dirty,
different-feeling.
They were so happy to touch us.
That was enough.
Their smiles never faded.

They ran after the bus.
Even with the bus kicking dirt into their faces,
they ran,
their determined spirits guiding them.
Their smiles never faded.

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