When we lived here before, I was often involved in weekend evangelism trips. I would choose a couple of students, and we would drive out to a remote village on Friday afternoon. We would do house to house evangelism during the day. Preach in the local church building at night and on Sunday morning, and then return to our home on Sunday.
Sometimes we would take our own food along. Sometimes we could count on the local church to feed us. On one such trip, being uncertain of the food situation, I took food, including a watermelon.
As we were eating lunch that Saturday, I was asked to visit a young widow who lived nearby. Her husband had died a few weeks earlier. Now her ten-year-old son was ill.
When I entered the hut, I was confronted with a child as far gone as I have ever seen in my life. He was down to little more than skin over a skeleton, and the skin was dry. The mother said that no matter what she gave him to eat or drink, he could not keep it down. He was so weak that we could not have taken him to the hospital, even if there had been one nearby (which there was not).
I sent someone to bring the watermelon from the car. At first, he could only suck on the pieces that were cut for him. Slowly he recovered enough strength to be transported to see the doctor. His case was diagnosed. The proper medicine for the underlying cause was obtained; and he began to recover.
All of that was twenty years ago. The ten-year-old is now a thirty-year-old with a wife and an infant son. Yesterday Cedric came with his wife, his son, his mother, and his little sister’s son.
They brought a chicken.
Which we enjoyed together.
Many times, I have wondered about the value of our efforts. Many times, I have felt that our effort might be in vain. Yesterday was not one of those times.
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