I admit that when I first arrived at the Brydges Centre I was focused on locating the fountain that was built in honor of my dad. It was the reason I made the trip to Kenya in the first place. It doesn't take long, however, for your attention to be drawn to the children of the Brydges Centre. At the time of my visit, there were just over 130 children there, some as young as a few months, with the oldest at the age to start high school.

Some come from the worst possible conditions, having faced homelessness, abuse, and neglect. Some of the youngest were literally rescued from a garbage dump, having been tossed away in a garbage bag. I wish that were only a metaphor, but it's a statement of fact.

You look at them now and in large part you see happy children. The Brydges Centre is not a summer camp; it is home. That means there is discipline, there is school, there are chores, there are squabbles with your siblings (each child sees the others as their siblings), there is play time and bonding.

Our travel group brought donated items with us to leave at the Brydges Centre (clothing, toiletries, school supplies, sports equipment, even iPads), and the children are always appreciative. They play with a level of spontaneity that I remember from my childhood, but which is largely lost on American kids today. The BC kids play pick-up games of soccer or volleyball, or they play singing games, or even board games. They don't need an adult to tell them how, or to adjudicate the rules. They just get out there and play.

I spent a total of about five days at the Brydges Centre, which was just enough time to get familiar with some of the children, and they with me. On one of my last days there, I had free time to hang out with the kids. I had my ukelele with me, and I played along while they sang songs. At one point I gave my spare camera to one of the older girls, Elizabeth, gave her a quick lesson on how to use it, and off she went. After about an hour, she had snapped dozens of pictures of her siblings as they ran around, sang songs, played games, or just hung out. The others were at ease with her holding a camera, in a way they were not necessarily at ease with me, so she was able to produce some lovely raw portraits of her  sisters and brothers. Here are a few of my favorites.

I'm sad to learn - now a year after I made my visit to the Brydges Centre - that children are being taken from the Brydges Centre by Kenyan government officials, to be returned to the villages or slums from which the came. They face homelessness, abuse, starvation, and worse once they arrive, as they have no family to watch over them or care for them. If it were even possible for me to go back today, how many of these lovely faces would be gone? These images are all the more meaningful and dear to me now.