My Chains Are Gone
"The Lord has promised good to me. His word my hope secures. He will my shield and portion be, as long as life endures."
A Wretch Like Me
I would be lying if I said that I'm doing great this week. This week was probably the most discouraged I've felt since arriving here in Tanzania. Maybe it's homesickness after being with my family for six weeks, maybe it's the discomfort of the UTI that I came down with at the end of the week, or maybe it's just the inevitable exhaustion of trying to do and be the best I can be in a world full of culture and traditions and language that is so different from my own. I'm sure it is some combination of all three that is causing me to feel down and discouraged in spite of the many blessings I experienced this week.
Was Blind but Now I See
On Monday I was invited by a woman from our church, Mama Neema, to visit the center she has built here in Morogoro. Her center helps tutor children who are preparing for exams as well as financially support them so they can pay school fees. It also has a pharmacy and Mama Neema provides check ups for elderly men and women in the community. After she gave me the tour we sat in her office where I knew she would be soon be requesting assistance from me. She told me about a family living just outside of Morogoro that she met several years ago. Both parents are blind as well as two of their three children. She told me that one of her employees saw the children begging in the street and her center helped them to enroll in school. The children, now grown and out of school, as well as the parents, are entirely supported by the one son who is not blind. She told me that they are living without running water and without a bathroom of any kind. Her goal is to build them a safe and sanitary bathroom as well as bring a water line out to their property. She asked me to help her find a sponsor for this project as well as monthly support for the family's living expenses. "We're going to visit their home tomorrow. If you are free we would like you to come with us and meet them."
The next day we loaded up in Mama Neema's van and drove just forty minutes outside of Morogoro to a beautiful, rain forest like village where the family is living. We unloaded the back of the van which was full of food and cleaning products as one by one the family members came outside to greet us- both parents, assisted by their son, as well as their daughter and their other son Abas. Mama Neema told them what we brought and they thanked us over and over again. She checked the father's blood pressure and temperature before they gave us a tour of their home and the area they are currently using as a restroom. The dirt patch surrounded by tall sticks would've been unrecognizable as a restroom if not for the bucket of water and small cup used for washing. Abas, although completely blind, showed us around the area and explained their needs in detail to Mama Neema as well as her friend from the water department who had joined us, and the contractor who they found to construct the bathroom. Any time Mama Neema expressed a concern or sympathy for their situation, Abas made a joke and smiled with a joy that was contagious. After meeting with the village committee to discern the steps necessary to bring a water line to the family, we started our journey back to town with Abas. Mama Neema's van bounced and creaked as she sped over the uneven gravel roads. It was about ten minutes in when suddenly we heard a loud "pop" followed by a quick and steady release of air. We had a flat tire. We all exited the vehicle as Mama Neema's two employees retrieved the spare and started work on changing the tire. Abas continued to make jokes and laugh as we all stood on the side of the road in the blazing sun. After fiddling with the spare tire for over and hour, Mama Neema concluded that the spare tire was the wrong size. Prince, her assistant, would have to take the tire back to the village on a motorcycle and buy another. Abas and I sat in the trunk of the van while we waited for Prince to return. He asked me questions about America and about my work here in Tanzania. He told me I was his first American friend and he was so happy to meet me. To pass the time, I tossed dry beans that had escaped from the bag we gave to Abas's family into the cup holder in the back of the van. Every time a bean went in, Abas smiled, and when I missed, he would search the floor with his hand until he found the bean and then place it in the cup holder himself. We both laughed. Finally Prince returned with a new tire and we made our way back to town.
We dropped Abas off at a gas station in the center of town. He told us he knew his way around and would be ok. As I watched him walk away I really thought about what life must be like for him and for his family or for anyone who his blind. He understood what was happening when we had the flat tire even though he had no idea what a tire looked like. I thought about how difficult it would be to teach someone who is blind. Where do you start? How do you explain what anything is without some reference to how it looks? Tires are round, like a circle. But he's never seen a circle before. Or a car. Or the incredible trees and mountains surrounding his home. He's never seen his own beautiful smile. I thought about when happens when he dreams. Can he see in his dreams? What would it look like? Or is it only conversation? Could he explain it to me? Suddenly I had so many unanswered questions that I had never really considered before meeting this family. And for that I was so thankful.
How Precious did that Grace Appear
Saturday was Christmas at my house. Anitha and I had finally sorted through the dozens of gifts that were donated for the children in my community and assembled gift bags for 25 children and 8 mothers. The bags for the children each had a toy, a box of crayons, a notebook, soap, three items of clothing, three pairs of underwear, and a pair of socks, and the mothers received a reusable bag full of clothes as well as laundry soap. Throughout the afternoon and evening the families came to the house to receive their treasures and they all left laughing and smiling with joy. The kids favorite part by far was the toy. Many of them have no toys to play with. Some of them make toys out of juice boxes or soda bottles. So to receive a brand new toy- from AMERICA- it was a huge deal. My favorite moment was when my neighbors- the pastor, his very pregnant wife, and their six children- came to my house. Each child found the bag with their name written on it and upon receiving it just sat and smiled at me. I encouraged them to open their gifts but they just sat smiling. I looked at their parents and the pastor said, "Let us pray first". All of them closed their eyes, holding their bags tightly, and prayed aloud for the blessing they were receiving. They prayed prayers of thanksgiving for me and for my work and they asked God to bless me. When they finished, the youngest children reached into their bags, smiling from ear to ear as they pulled out their gifts. It was such a happy day.
Unending Love
When the pastor's family arrived at my house, the mother, Mama Mchungaji, told me she wasn't feeling well. "Tumbo" she said, which means stomach. I asked her if she went to the hospital and she said she hadn't but that she would go tomorrow. Just over an hour after they left my house, Anitha came in and told me she was going with Mama Mchungaji to the hospital right away. She returned around 10 PM and said that the doctors wouldn't let her in the room and that it wasn't safe for her to wait outside any longer. She said she would go back in the morning. When I woke up on Sunday at 7:30, Anitha had already returned. "Mtoto amefungua tayari." (the baby is here already) she said with a big smile on her face. I was shocked. Mama Mchungaji had a healthy baby girl at two o'clock Sunday morning. She had the baby, the last of nine children, at the government hospital here in Morogoro. She was all by herself. As my heart swelled with joy for the healthy new life that was born, it also sunk with sadness as I imagined sweet, kind, Mama Mchungaji giving birth all alone in a cold, sterile hospital room. No one to hold her hand or kiss her forehead. No one to wipe away her tears or sweat. No one to hug her as she held her baby girl for the first time. I asked Anitha why her husband didn't go to the hospital with her and she shrugged her shoulders and walked off as if it wasn't unusual.
Mama Mchungaji came home Sunday afternoon and, with permission, I went next door to visit her. As soon as I walked into her room she handed me the tiny, 15 hour old baby girl and my eyes filled with tears. From her tiny wrinkly fingers to her dark curly hair, she was perfect. Here I was holding the life who less than 24 hours before was still in Mama Mchungaji's belly as she sat on my couch. Although I wanted to sit and hold her for hours, I handed the baby back to Mama Mchungaji and we prayed together for the blessing of new life and for continued good health for baby girl and for mama.
Amazing Grace
If you, like me, are having a down day or week, I pray that these stories bring you joy. God works in amazing ways. I know that and I recognize it. I recognize that even when I am at my lowest, God is working overtime to show off His love for me. To remind me of my why. To be sure that I know that His grace and mercy is stronger than any force of evil or hate or sadness or sickness that I may face. How blessed are we to have a God so good?
If you or if someone you know is interested in helped Abas and his family, please comment below with your contact information, or send me an email at alisonrg24@gmail.com and I can give you more details about their needs.
A Wretch Like Me
I would be lying if I said that I'm doing great this week. This week was probably the most discouraged I've felt since arriving here in Tanzania. Maybe it's homesickness after being with my family for six weeks, maybe it's the discomfort of the UTI that I came down with at the end of the week, or maybe it's just the inevitable exhaustion of trying to do and be the best I can be in a world full of culture and traditions and language that is so different from my own. I'm sure it is some combination of all three that is causing me to feel down and discouraged in spite of the many blessings I experienced this week.
Was Blind but Now I See
On Monday I was invited by a woman from our church, Mama Neema, to visit the center she has built here in Morogoro. Her center helps tutor children who are preparing for exams as well as financially support them so they can pay school fees. It also has a pharmacy and Mama Neema provides check ups for elderly men and women in the community. After she gave me the tour we sat in her office where I knew she would be soon be requesting assistance from me. She told me about a family living just outside of Morogoro that she met several years ago. Both parents are blind as well as two of their three children. She told me that one of her employees saw the children begging in the street and her center helped them to enroll in school. The children, now grown and out of school, as well as the parents, are entirely supported by the one son who is not blind. She told me that they are living without running water and without a bathroom of any kind. Her goal is to build them a safe and sanitary bathroom as well as bring a water line out to their property. She asked me to help her find a sponsor for this project as well as monthly support for the family's living expenses. "We're going to visit their home tomorrow. If you are free we would like you to come with us and meet them."
The next day we loaded up in Mama Neema's van and drove just forty minutes outside of Morogoro to a beautiful, rain forest like village where the family is living. We unloaded the back of the van which was full of food and cleaning products as one by one the family members came outside to greet us- both parents, assisted by their son, as well as their daughter and their other son Abas. Mama Neema told them what we brought and they thanked us over and over again. She checked the father's blood pressure and temperature before they gave us a tour of their home and the area they are currently using as a restroom. The dirt patch surrounded by tall sticks would've been unrecognizable as a restroom if not for the bucket of water and small cup used for washing. Abas, although completely blind, showed us around the area and explained their needs in detail to Mama Neema as well as her friend from the water department who had joined us, and the contractor who they found to construct the bathroom. Any time Mama Neema expressed a concern or sympathy for their situation, Abas made a joke and smiled with a joy that was contagious. After meeting with the village committee to discern the steps necessary to bring a water line to the family, we started our journey back to town with Abas. Mama Neema's van bounced and creaked as she sped over the uneven gravel roads. It was about ten minutes in when suddenly we heard a loud "pop" followed by a quick and steady release of air. We had a flat tire. We all exited the vehicle as Mama Neema's two employees retrieved the spare and started work on changing the tire. Abas continued to make jokes and laugh as we all stood on the side of the road in the blazing sun. After fiddling with the spare tire for over and hour, Mama Neema concluded that the spare tire was the wrong size. Prince, her assistant, would have to take the tire back to the village on a motorcycle and buy another. Abas and I sat in the trunk of the van while we waited for Prince to return. He asked me questions about America and about my work here in Tanzania. He told me I was his first American friend and he was so happy to meet me. To pass the time, I tossed dry beans that had escaped from the bag we gave to Abas's family into the cup holder in the back of the van. Every time a bean went in, Abas smiled, and when I missed, he would search the floor with his hand until he found the bean and then place it in the cup holder himself. We both laughed. Finally Prince returned with a new tire and we made our way back to town.
We dropped Abas off at a gas station in the center of town. He told us he knew his way around and would be ok. As I watched him walk away I really thought about what life must be like for him and for his family or for anyone who his blind. He understood what was happening when we had the flat tire even though he had no idea what a tire looked like. I thought about how difficult it would be to teach someone who is blind. Where do you start? How do you explain what anything is without some reference to how it looks? Tires are round, like a circle. But he's never seen a circle before. Or a car. Or the incredible trees and mountains surrounding his home. He's never seen his own beautiful smile. I thought about when happens when he dreams. Can he see in his dreams? What would it look like? Or is it only conversation? Could he explain it to me? Suddenly I had so many unanswered questions that I had never really considered before meeting this family. And for that I was so thankful.
How Precious did that Grace Appear
Saturday was Christmas at my house. Anitha and I had finally sorted through the dozens of gifts that were donated for the children in my community and assembled gift bags for 25 children and 8 mothers. The bags for the children each had a toy, a box of crayons, a notebook, soap, three items of clothing, three pairs of underwear, and a pair of socks, and the mothers received a reusable bag full of clothes as well as laundry soap. Throughout the afternoon and evening the families came to the house to receive their treasures and they all left laughing and smiling with joy. The kids favorite part by far was the toy. Many of them have no toys to play with. Some of them make toys out of juice boxes or soda bottles. So to receive a brand new toy- from AMERICA- it was a huge deal. My favorite moment was when my neighbors- the pastor, his very pregnant wife, and their six children- came to my house. Each child found the bag with their name written on it and upon receiving it just sat and smiled at me. I encouraged them to open their gifts but they just sat smiling. I looked at their parents and the pastor said, "Let us pray first". All of them closed their eyes, holding their bags tightly, and prayed aloud for the blessing they were receiving. They prayed prayers of thanksgiving for me and for my work and they asked God to bless me. When they finished, the youngest children reached into their bags, smiling from ear to ear as they pulled out their gifts. It was such a happy day.
Unending Love
When the pastor's family arrived at my house, the mother, Mama Mchungaji, told me she wasn't feeling well. "Tumbo" she said, which means stomach. I asked her if she went to the hospital and she said she hadn't but that she would go tomorrow. Just over an hour after they left my house, Anitha came in and told me she was going with Mama Mchungaji to the hospital right away. She returned around 10 PM and said that the doctors wouldn't let her in the room and that it wasn't safe for her to wait outside any longer. She said she would go back in the morning. When I woke up on Sunday at 7:30, Anitha had already returned. "Mtoto amefungua tayari." (the baby is here already) she said with a big smile on her face. I was shocked. Mama Mchungaji had a healthy baby girl at two o'clock Sunday morning. She had the baby, the last of nine children, at the government hospital here in Morogoro. She was all by herself. As my heart swelled with joy for the healthy new life that was born, it also sunk with sadness as I imagined sweet, kind, Mama Mchungaji giving birth all alone in a cold, sterile hospital room. No one to hold her hand or kiss her forehead. No one to wipe away her tears or sweat. No one to hug her as she held her baby girl for the first time. I asked Anitha why her husband didn't go to the hospital with her and she shrugged her shoulders and walked off as if it wasn't unusual.
Mama Mchungaji came home Sunday afternoon and, with permission, I went next door to visit her. As soon as I walked into her room she handed me the tiny, 15 hour old baby girl and my eyes filled with tears. From her tiny wrinkly fingers to her dark curly hair, she was perfect. Here I was holding the life who less than 24 hours before was still in Mama Mchungaji's belly as she sat on my couch. Although I wanted to sit and hold her for hours, I handed the baby back to Mama Mchungaji and we prayed together for the blessing of new life and for continued good health for baby girl and for mama.
Amazing Grace
If you, like me, are having a down day or week, I pray that these stories bring you joy. God works in amazing ways. I know that and I recognize it. I recognize that even when I am at my lowest, God is working overtime to show off His love for me. To remind me of my why. To be sure that I know that His grace and mercy is stronger than any force of evil or hate or sadness or sickness that I may face. How blessed are we to have a God so good?
If you or if someone you know is interested in helped Abas and his family, please comment below with your contact information, or send me an email at alisonrg24@gmail.com and I can give you more details about their needs.
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| Abas |
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| Abas's father with Mama Neema, her friend, and her employee |
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| Prince changing the tire |
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| Pastor, Mama Mchungaji, and their family |
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| Sweet Glory excited for her Minnie Mouse doll |
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| More sweet kiddos excited to receive their gifts! |
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