The worst thing about being a volunteer is leaving.

I was fairly confident that I'd be able to make it through the farewells without crying but, of course, I did cry (what a wimp!).That prompted a whole round of crying amongst the kids I'd been looking after for the last three weeks.And to see the pain in their faces, it expressed the obvious; that this is not the first time they have had something taken away from them.

During my placement, I was spared the detail of exactly what had happened in each child's past.But I did get a couple of glimpses;a set of twins were visited by their mother and the three sat in hopeless silence because their predicament created a wall between them.At an awards ceremony for the children who had done exceptionally well at school, award winners were to give a speech on what had happened in their pasts and a girl from our school spoke of a violent father who beat her, her siblings and her mother.One afternoon at the centre there was suddenly a terribly cold atmosphere and it turned out that a girl was expelled because she'd been playing truant, and several children, presumably her closest friends, were inconsolable at the loss.

My understanding (and its vague because I didn't like to ask too many questions on a painful subject) is that a proportion of the children at the shelter don't have any parents and a proportion have family, but the family can't afford to look after them.Some have been street children at some point and some have suffered abuse.So I was horrified to cause them tears today, I felt like a Grade A tosser.But of course its not about me, the point is not about how I feel, its about what I can give to these children and the lessons I can take away from them and pass on.

The staff at the hotel Im staying at have been incredibly supportive throughout the whole experience and one says to me, all the time "Wow, you must really love children".And every time, instantly, a little voice in my head says, 'No, not really, I don't'.And its true, I'm not the type who 'LOVES children, all of them, wants to gobble them all up'..

I love individuals.

I love these amazing characters that have formed in the face of adversity.Who have so many wonderful characteristics that most people from more privileged backgrounds would be hard pressed to find within themselves.I don't usually gush but seriously people, these children are AMAZING.They are amazing little people.

Firstly, they SHARE.I just couldn't believe it.I remember in my own childhood being mortified at the prospect of having to share my things with my sister, it seemed so unfair.I was always incredibly resentful when I had to and, in fact, Ill admit it, now at 24 years of age, Ill still eat in private a lot because I don't much fancy sharing my packet of biscuits with my friends (well C'MON, they're chocolate chip!!??).These kids have anywhere between 23 and 29 'sisters' to share their things with.If there's a little plastic toy cellphone it doesn't belong to just one kid, it belongs to all of them.If a story book is bought, no one child gets to fill in the 'This book belongs to' section at the front and squirrel it away to their stash of goodies somewhere.I was absolutely thrilled and amazed that if there was a colouring book Id see a little clusters of kids colouring in a page all-together and a cluster of kids colouring in the facing page, maybe one or two taking the opportunity to read out some of the English captions..

They teach one another.The children at the shelter range in age between 8 and 18 and on many occasions I saw one child explaining something to another, helping her with her homework, listening to her reading.I think it shows a real selfless-ness of character to have that much of an interest and a participation in your peers education and development and not just a preoccupation with your own.And y'know its not as if there's enough teaching support to go round, so if they didn't look after one another, there would just be an incredibly big gap.When I look back at myself in school I can see that sometimes we were so snotty."If something isn't set up for me, directed at me, designed for me then I'm not doing it".I've looked on in wonderment as the 18 year old girls at the shelter have 'played along' if I've taught the younger ones 'Incy Wincey Spider' or coloured in a Winnie The Pooh activity book.Yes it's not at their level, but when there's only one classroom and only one teacher sometimes things are going to seem silly and childish.Except they didn't, because these girls put their everything into making sure the younger ones were having fun that day.I watched the eldest girl, doing physics homework (she's about to do a physics degree (!) that wasn't homework I was about to offer to help with!), surrounded by what can only be described as a racket, and not a tantrum, not a flounce, just acceptance that this was the way it had to be; she concentrates on what she's doing, they on their activity.

I could go on but I think the point Im trying to get across is that these girls don't have everything.They don't have security (some of them don't even have a birth certificate - can you imagine not knowing what day you were born on, when is your birthday?), they don't have a quiet environment to study, their own toys that they can be possessive of, they don't have a pain free background, in fact what they've been through probably returns to haunt them at some point every day.But do they sulk, do they hide away, do they treat each other badly to compensate.No.They are more loving towards one another, more enthusiastic about what they can learn, more full of fun and joy than anything you could hope to see anywhere else.

And that is the best thing about being a volunteer.Having the ABSOLUTE privilege of meeting and featuring in the lives of kids who are soldiers with huge hearts, big smiles and endless love.It has been an experience and an honour that I will never forget.

And on a less gushy note (I hate to gush), IT IS A LOT OF FUN.To induce fever pitch excitement with a round of egg and spoon races (I don't think the housekeeper was too impressed by the broken eggs), or to be given the bumps (remember that from childhood?Except that I am big and the kids are small so I hit the ground a fair bit), or to create complete chaos when the 'Hokey Kokey' turned into one big brawl - teeny wee kids being knocked over by the big ones..Musical chairs- kids hands being sat on or being bumped unceremoniously off the last remaining chair.I haven't laughed so hard in a long long time.You can't put a price on it.For everything else theres Mastercard.