Hollie Tyrell
When I first got the news I would be travelling to Kenya on my mission, I couldn’t contain my disbelief and happiness.
It has always been a lifelong dream of mine to go on a mission, to be able to help children just like me, to see a life changed in front of your very eyes.
You see, I was among the one in five hundred who are born with a cleft lip and palate. It has affected my whole life; to always have to stand out from the crowd was a misery, until I discovered Operation Smile.
My cleft lip and palate has allowed me to use my smile to help others. I couldn’t wait to be surrounded with children just like me, to comfort them and tell them they weren’t so different, and show them what a 45-minute operation can really do.
We arrived at the hospital, greeted by dozens of friendly smiles. I thought all I would see is broken smiles, but instead they seemed familiar to me, their smiles radiating the room.
I was given the unique opportunity that everyone on the team envies, to get to know the families and kids. I can honestly say that by the second day, I forgot who had clefts, burns or other facial deformities. All I saw was their beautiful faces.
In fact, when my sponsor asked me what one child was in for, I struggled to remember! That was the part I had most trouble grasping, if I could forget one child’s cleft in 48 hours, surely their villages could do the same - sadly this was not the case.
One mother told me of her 8-month-old baby, Gift, who had been shunned from her village. Sadly, these stories were all too common. So many different people touched me in my short experience.
From a Masi boy of 17, who had a bilateral cleft, constantly beating me in every card game imaginable, who had travelled 200km to reach the hospital, or maybe it was a young man, who had third degree burns from head to toe. His whole family, but one son had died in a fire, when his home was set alight in the recent troubles.
Or, perhaps it was the father of a girl with a cleft lip, who reached out to my face and pointed to his daughter, asking if I too had a cleft. To his relief, I nodded, and tears welled in my eyes. These are just some of the hundreds of people who made my mission worthwhile.
I think one of the most rewarding factors of a mission is education. Debbi and I would do a full-day of lessons, with or without a translator. One memory that stands out was, teaching a room full of children how to brush their teeth, and then seeing them beam as we gave them their first tooth brush. It was indescribable.
We were extremely fortunate in that we visited orphanages and hospitals daily, thanks to our host and our diligent sponsor. From burns to brushing in Swahili or even sign language, we made sure our messages were spread near and far.
The language barrier seemed non-existent when we played with each child. It’s amazing how just a touch can bond two people. When a child grabs your hand to introduce you to their parent; my heart skipped a beat!
A smile is a funny thing, like a key to a lock, each one is different. Although I learned everyone’s name, it was not their clothes, or hair or eyes I used to recognize them, but their smiles. It is a wonderful thing to see someone fully smile for the first time.
When I describe my experience to friends or strangers alike, it is that smile I try to describe to them. The pride on their mothers faces, the look in their eyes when they see it for the first time… priceless.
Each person’s life story still makes me well up, and I am truly grateful for undoubtedly, the most life-changing experience I will ever know. Since going to Kenya, my experience has inspired me to spread the mission of Operation Smile and change more children’s lives, one smile at a time.
