Goodbye Cambodia.

Esther runs up to me. She looks as if she is about to cry. I grab ahold of her and give her a big hug. We are both silent. I feel a tear touch my neck. I pull away… I walk over to the tuk tuk and get in. as we drive away Esther begins to cry into her mothers dress… I look away and then under my breath I say “goodbye Esther…”

 

**Friday, November 24th** – As I step off the tuk-tuk at school, my mind is racing. It is November 24, but back in America, it’s November 23… Thanksgiving. They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Cambodia; it’s an American holiday. It is also the last day I will be teaching at PCL Learning Center, a school I have been teaching at for over a month and have grown to love. How will I say goodbye?

 

As I walk into the building, I am grabbed by my students. They fight for who gets to hold my hand and drag me into our classroom. It was an average class, a little slow of anything. But as it was drawing to a close, the TA I worked with told the class it was my last day. The tears began. I didn’t know why; I don’t know enough Khmer to understand that she had told them. Then a girl walked up to me; she was one of my older students (15), one of the rare exceptions to the 8 to 10 age range in my classes. She handed me a page she had pulled out of her notebook. It was a goodbye letter. Then it hit me. Two weeks ago, this girl had come to me to stay after class and asked me for help working on sentences. These were the sentences she had wanted to write; certain ones popped out of me. I thanked her, then folded the letter up and put it away in the front pocket of my shirt. Now I knew what the TA had told them. It was time for the first of the final goodbyes.

 

The class asked for a picture with me. Some of the smaller kids were hugging me, but they couldn’t be seen. So I grabbed the smallest and pulled him on my shoulders. Then I grabbed one by his waist and the other by his belt and lifted them up so they could be seen. The kids thought it was awesome. The kids took turns having me throw them in the air. Then we said our final goodbyes; the girls cried, and then they were gone; it was over. No, the first goodbye was. I had many more to come before the day was done.

 

I said goodbye to Melody, the TA I worked with in the morning; it was her last day as well. I checked the time; it was about 9 pm-ish back in America, so I gave my family a call. It was Thanksgiving after all, and I am certainly thankful for my family that has supported me. It was good to talk to them; I don’t get to much over here. But I still had 2 classes left and even more goodbyes.

 

My last 2 classes were more of the same, not as dramatic as the first but sad still. We spent some time with the teachers. They thanked us for overtime there, and we said goodbye to them as well. It was now almost time to leave, and now it was time for the hardest goodbye of them all: Esther.

 

Esther is the niece of Phent, the teacher I worked with, and during my time here, I grew very close with Esther and her family. Esther’s mother is an English teacher who helps teach kids who can’t afford to go to school learn English. Meaning Esther primary speaks English. With this, as well as her outgoing personality, the team quickly took her in. All of the guys loved Esther. She reminded me of all the little sisters I have had (Foster Care), and in the team’s mind, she was like our little sister.

 

Esther runs up to me. She looks as if she is about to cry. I grab ahold of her and give her a big hug. We are both silent. I feel a tear touch my neck. I pull away to see one tear falling from each of her eyes. I brush them away with my thumb. I look into her sad eyes. She is only 6, but the sadness is deep. I say, “Esther, God loves you, that is why I came, but I have to go; other people need help too. Other people need to know God loves them, and he is sending me. God will always love you. Goodbye, Esther.” I lean forward and kiss her forehead lightly. Then I let go of her. I talk briefly with her mom; she knew that saying goodbye would be hard for Esther but thought she had the right to see us off. I turn to leave. I walk over to the tuk-tuk and get in. As we drive away, Esther begins to cry into her mother’s dress. I look away, and then under my breath, I say, “Goodbye, Esther…”

 

This is the reality of short-term missions; we don’t stay forever. Our work is not about us or what we do. It is about uplifting the people God has placed there even long after we are gone. As I write this, we are preparing to go into Thailand. We will be on a 20-hour bus ride this Friday to get to where we will be working. As of this posting, I can’t provide details of the work we will be doing in Thailand for our safety and the safety of our host. When we get there, I will ask what I am allowed to reveal to you as my supporters. What I can tell you is that we will be working with a pacifistic militarized (no, that is not an oxymoron) organization that’s primary aim is medical aid within active war zones. We will primarily be working with refugees of these war zones.

 

I am still raising funds. If you feel led to support me and the work that God is doing through me and my team, my link is on my Facebook and Instagram. Please continue to pray for my team as we go into this next Ministry.

 

Praise be to God sincerely – Luke Palmer, vagabond missioned by Christ.