Uncle Alex, you take mine and you pray...

After a day of fun and games the night slowly unveils over the African sky. The jubilant myriads of children's voices give in to silence and meditation. Myself, a Polish volunteer by the name of Przemek (read: Siemek), a missionary and about a hundred former street boys are taking an evening prayer stroll across the Don Bosco oratory compound, stopping every few minutes to reflect on the Glorious Mysteries, the mysteries of faith. As we proceed step-by-step along a rocky path I cannot but be struck by the stillness and contemplation of the youngsters around me. A vivid contrast to the rowdy crowd from roughly half an hour ago.

As we near a gate revealing a metal plaque illustrating an effigy of the founder of the Salesian order, Saint John Bosco, we come to a halt. I turn to watch the boys' fingers move along the beads as prayers are recited, mentally trying to keep count of each decade (as I do not have a rosary of my own). The night is quiet, but for the usual cicada gig and a few whispers.

All of a sudden, I feel a light tapping and pulling down my lower left arm. As I turn my head, in the surrounding darkness, I can barely make out the shape of a 7-year old Karimojong boy, Topos, staring up at me resolutely while holding out a white rosary - Uncle Alex, look, you take mine and...you pray. Stunned and moved I receive the rosary with a smile. This little orphan boy, referred to by his Bagandan pals as uncivilized, untamed and wild, shares with me his most cherished possession, his rosary. His faith and his love. I could not have asked for more.

After all, it is testimony to the sense of the tireless sacrifice and daily arduous work of the missionaries and volunteers of Don Bosco scattered worldwide across all continents.

C.A.L.M., Don Bosco, Namugongo.