Today is Thanksgiving

   Today is Thanksgiving.  I walked into the village to see if the village seamstress could sew a hem for me.  It's a dirty walk on a rocky, pitted dirt road.  When you turn off that road to go deeper into the village there are lots of burned, charcoal-fueled fire spots where dwellers have burned their trash or in one case 3 years ago, a thief was burned to earth on one of those spots.

   The  young woman who does the sewing wasn't home, and the young girl attending the home didn't speak English so we exchanged a few words in Kiswahili and I returned to campus by way of the main highway.

   It's a bit of a walk so I was thinking about different things when I heard a voice call out, "Bibi" (Grandmother).  I wasn't really paying attention and kept walking until the same voice yelled louder, "Shikamu" (A greeting of respect for an elder.)  I turned around and saw a boy about 10 years-old.  He was pretty dirty and carried a heavy black plastic bag on his shoulder.  He started speaking Kiswahili.  I explained (in Kiswahili) that I didn't speak much Swahili, but he kept talking as if I understood! (He must have understood the little I said, so that's a complement to my efforts at studying the language---or else when I thought I said I didn't speak much, I actually said I speak a lot!!!)   Anyway, we soon got to the pantomime version of communicating and he wanted to know what was in my small purse.  I acted like I didn't understand and pulled out the blouse I hoped to have hemmed that I was carrying uderneath the purse.  He must have thought that this "bibi" really didn't get it!  So in frustration and with a rough, strong voice he demanded, "Give me money!"  I looked at him kindly, smiled, and said, "Hapana (no), I have no money."  Then I asked him (via gestures) what was in his bag.  his eyes became stern.  I think he thought I wanted to take his bag, so I gently said, "Your bag is heavy, so sorry."  (At least that's what I think I said.)  So he took  down his bag from his left shoulder and opened it to show me the coal he was carrying, probably to sell.  I again said that it was very heavy and I was sorry.  We walked a bit more in silence.   I noticed his strong arms---yet still those of a boy developing muscle. . .He wasn't inn school and today is a school day here. . .
I wondered about how protective he was of his bag of coal. . .

   After a bit he said, "Good-by."  And I said, "Kwa here. Sik njema." (Good-by. Have a good day.)  He replied, "Asante" (thank-you) and crossed the busy highway. . .

   I said a prayer for him as I continued my walk back to the campus.  He coulld  have been one of my grandchildren----how different their life is.

   Sometimes it's a bit overwhelming here. . .Our life is so abundant inn the face of their poverty. . .

Dear God, please be with this Tz. boy today and with our grandchildren so far away.  Fill all of their stomachs, keep all of them safe from harm, and help each of them grow to know You---and love You with all of their heart.

 Happy Thanksgiving to all of you