The sun hammers into the small brick courtyard and I shift on the sticky, propped up by a couple of old tires, vinyl bench. Shouts of excitement bounce off the walls as twenty rambunctious 3-6 year olds race in circles after a faded fluorescent soccer ball.

As he wraps his elbow around the leg of my grimy with dirty fingerprints yoga pants, I watch him lean off the bench in excitement. Every time one of his older friends kicks the ball, his little leg fires out as if he can play vicariously from the sidelines where he and the rest of the little ones perch beside me.

Whenever the game moves to the far side of the courtyard, he jumps off the bench and peers around my knee so that he can follow the action. As soon as the throng of kids thunders back towards us, he grabs my leg and climbs back up to safety. I hear the soft crinkle of his diaper and feel the warmth of his little body as he settles down beside me. His eyes sparkle as he flashes me an impish grin.

Although I am in love with so many of the kids at my placement, he is one of the two that has stolen the biggest piece of my heart.  Whenever his big brown eyes lock with mine, I want to wrap my arms around him and protect him forever.

As we move into this Mother’s Day weekend, I can’t help but wonder about his mother. I have not met her as he has already arrived when I get to placement each morning. I wonder if she is still a high school student, like some of the other mothers who at first I mistook for older siblings due to their school uniforms. Is she HIV positive and unable to care for him? Or, has she moved on with her life and left him in the care of a grandparent? So many grandparents in South Africa have taken on the task of raising grandkids born out of wedlock or orphaned by AIDS. I hope that his story is different.

It makes me appreciate how lucky I am to have a mother who has always loved me and done what is best for me. I can only hope that he has the same and that he will have access to the education and the support required to create a life for himself outside of the poverty of the Townships.

I know my heart will hurt when I have to say goodbye to both of my favourite little guys (we are not supposed to have favourites, but how can you not?). Meeting both of them has taught me that you don’t need to share the same language, age, or race in order to feel a deep connection with another human being. I would happily take them both home with me, but somehow I’m sure their families would object. I will have to settle for knowing that they will always have a piece of my heart. I wish I could give them so much more…