Hot bodies press up against either side of me as we bounce over rocks and swerve around potholes. Through the open window, I see a young man wearing a clean and crisp purple t-shirt. So clean, in fact, that it doesn’t fit with the yellow gasoline container in his hands or the people in faded and stained clothes in front and behind him. In bold white letters, his t-shirt reads, “FedEx Cares”. I feel like I’ve stepped into a FedEx commercial. “African boy walks miles to collect water wearing a t-shirt donated by FedEx.” (Yes – everyone hear uses gasoline and oil containers to transport water)

A tap on the roof signals to the driver to stop and as we careen over the side of the road, a woman in a long brightly patterned skirts runs to catch up to the van. Before she has even found a seat on one of the crowded benches, the dilapidated van pulls back onto the road and we chug up the steep hill out of Gisenyi (Rwanda), belching black exhaust and broadcasting the latest Rihanna song out of the crackling speakers.

The smell of dried sweat, exhaust, and fresh air mingles into something almost fragrant as we navigate the curves on the 12 km winding road. I stare out at the lush terraced hillsides and see palm and banana trees intermingling and swaying in the wind. Women carry giant bags of seed or wicker baskets piled high with cauliflower on their heads; babies sleep pressed up against their mothers’ backs as their older siblings play barefoot in the ditches; and men trudge by with shovels flung over their shoulders. This $0.50 ride to my placement every day is a voyeur’s dream and too soon, a tap on the roof signals our stop as my fellow volunteer and I tumble onto the asphalt and hand over our fare.

A walk down the long gravel driveway brings us to the Noel Orphanage in Nyundo. As soon as we open the doors, little legs pump toward us as children with bright eyes and huge smiles open their arms for their morning hug. I crouch down and am almost pushed over by their excitement.

Although I could spend all day as a human jungle gym, I can hear the babies crying through the thin pane of the nearby window and my arms are quivering in anticipation. Twenty  babies between the ages of 0-1 – if ever I had a calling in life (outside of writing and volunteering internationally), caring for babies is it.

Today is Day 3 of my volunteer placement with Global Volunteer Network and I already know some of these beautiful little souls by personality (even if I can’t pronounce their names). I know which ones like to be rocked on their stomachs; which ones take forever to eat; and which ones need the most attention. As I enter the humid  room, I inhale the scent of warm milk and a round of “Mamas” nod to me in greeting. I practice my broken Kinderwandan and say hello.

A couple of hours later, we have settled into our daily routine of lifting a crying baby out of his crib, changing the rags (literally) on her bum, and feeding him a bottle of freshly prepared formula. I know the women have finally accepted me because now when they watch me lay one of the infants face down across my knees and pull off a sopping rag, they toss me a fresh one from the other side of the room. Like an old pro, I wrap the dishtowel-sized rag around a little bum and tie off the ends. The women cluck and make comments that I can’t understand (but I’d like to think mean, “wow – this girl is a natural – I wonder if she has already raised her babies in Canada.”)

The truth is, I’ve wanted to be a mother since I first held my baby brother in my arms. At the age of 9 1/2, I started to count down the days until I would have a little one of my own. If you’ve read A Fresh Chapter for awhile, you probably know that even though I turn 33 tomorrow, I am still a childless mother. So, I can’t even put into words for you what an amazing gift it is for me to spend this time with a group of beautiful motherless children. Every moment when I have a little body pressed up against my chest reminds me that parenting a child is one of the most important things someone can EVER do.

People have called me brave for giving up everything and traveling the world. But, I actually think the Mamas in the orphanages around the world, showering children with love, and all of YOU in your own parenthood trenches are the brave ones. Everyday, you are making a monumental difference in the lives of the little human beings in your care. I applaud the Mamas and you and hope that one day I will be lucky enough to join your ranks.

As much as I wish I could bring one of these little ones home with me, I know I still have miles to go before I get to motherhood. With your support, I have countries to see; other volunteer duties to fulfill; and the Fresh Chapter Foundation to build. But my time here in Rwanda reminds me that it is the little moments in life that really matter. Moments like the chance to cradle a 2 month old orphan boy in my arms and whisper in his ear that he is loved and that he matters.

Thank you for continuing to support this Adventure of Hope. If you would like to help me celebrate my birthday by joining us with a Jeans Day tomorrow, please click HERE for more info.