
last night as I was locking the door to our bedroom I broke the teeth off of our skelton key. We had to find the "hotel" employee, Teddy, and search around for the spare, when we couldn't find the spare we decided to change rooms which was suprising to Carol when she came to wake us up this morning.
Today we went back to Libby's school, Nzeve, to observe Sangani in action making things to sell. We also participated in pre-school classes. The ambulance came today and the for the most part were ecstatic. One boy though, was beside himself with fearful tears because he had been run-over in the streets a few years back and I was suddenly aware of how scary an ambulance can be.

In America an ambulance for the most part is a sign of help and care, but in a country full of aids and malaria and cholera and death before 30 the ambulance can easily turn into a hurse in the eyes of children who are the only ones left in their family. One of the interpreters two days ago told me that he and his youngest sister were the only two left in his entire family. The interpreter, Albert, is 17 years old.
Kirk told us that in Zimbabwe when parents die and grand parents are already gone it happens often that the children, no matter how old, are left in their empty parentless homes to fend for themselves.
Lord,
These stories hurt my heart.
In the afternoon today we met the distrit super intendent. We sat down with her to talk about Deaf ministry at Hilltop UMC. It isn't right, but as Americans, people take our opinions seriously here. Also, the fact that we had traveled all the way from Maryland to see the lowest and most marginalized group of people here says something.
The D.S's eyes were opened; she had never even considered coming to the Deaf conference and was a little embarrassed when we flat out said "we look forward to seeing you this weekend!" She said it was a great and humbling challenge.
Monday night our preacher for the Deaf week event signed in his sermon "Before we were not people, but NOW! we are people!" The Deaf ministry here has given life and support and jobs to people who before did not consider themselves to be people.
Praise be to God
I am going to sleep now to think of the 6 year old boy who was eating bre
ad by himself in the kitchen at Nzeve this morning and, as cheesey as it sounds, whose smile melted my heart like butter in a microwave. I also hope to dream of Colin a a6 year old boy at Nzeve whose favorite toy is a dingy old tire. This afternoon when we came back to the school he saw the huge tires on our truck and he hugged them in the sunlight for a beautiful minute. Praise God. Amen.
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