For the most part, I consider myself a contented person, happy even, at peace with myself and with the world. However, I was wondering recently if I would recognize joy if I saw it again. Being surrounded by pain, sorrow, disappointment, frustration, and hopelessness often leaves me emotionally exhausted. Where is joy?
I am going home to visit soon (almost joy level) and I will not be present for Fidesta's form 4 graduation. However, last Sunday there was a celebration to commemorate form 4 graduation from religious studies at the local Catholic Church. Fidesta invited me to come. Of course I agreed, not realizing that there would be very few adults present, only those who had been invited to speak and to be guests of honor. The celebration was in the old, small church where we meet for the charismatic service, and guests of honor sat at the head table up on the altar. I bet you can guess where I was seated, right up there where all could see me. I really hate being the center of attention, but the seat gave me a good view of all the students.
Fidesta was sitting near the window in the first row. I tried to blend into the surroundings and just listen and watch all that was happening. I listened to the speaker and really did not understand much of what he said, other than that it was an inspirational message for these young people who are about to go out into the world on their own. During the ceremony, I happened to look over at Fidesta, and the sun was shining in that window and was illuminating her face. I saw that she was looking at me. I smiled at her and her face lit up. At that moment, I am sure that I saw joy! She was literally glowing and I marvel at the thought. Maybe God really has given her a future and a hope. Maybe God really did hear her praying and sent her His love. I hope she always remembers that feeling and remains strong in her faith.
While I was sitting there thinking about Fidesta, a thought popped into my head. (I am sure this is the way God communicates with me). He said, "give her your necklace." I have this cross encircled by a heart that I have worn every day since I have been here. My mother gave me the necklace, and I really love her and I love that necklace. I tried to argue with the thought. I told myself that I had already given her a card in which I had written a nice heart-felt message. Wasn't that enough? Apparently not because again I heard, "Give her the necklace." I continued to find excuses so that I could keep my necklace. I would buy her a cross when I go to America. Wouldn't she like a new one better than mine? No. "Give her your necklace!" After using every excuse and not really believing them myself, I knew what I would do. As we were walking home, I stopped her and taking off my cross, I explained how much it meant to me. I told her that I would only be in her life for a short time, and I wanted her to have my cross to remember that her mothers, the one in heaven and the one on earth, love her very much and are very proud of her. I put it on her, and through her tears, I again saw joy.
Traveling to the market on the bus one day, Fidesta was sitting with a young man and he was crying. Fidesta asked him what was wrong and he told her that he had come to town to escort his wife and their new baby home from the hospital. However, he did not have enough money for the bus fare, and they would have to get off the bus and walk the rest of the way home. Fidesta took the pocket money that I had given her and gave it to that man. She told me that it had given her a most unusual feeling, because she had never before been in a position where she could give. Usually she was the one in tears. I made sure not to replenish her money at that moment, because I wanted her to think about that feeling and keep it in her heart, just as I am hoping she will remember her feeling of joy.
On a lighter note, the children at my aunt's church in New Hampshire donated school supplies to my neighborhood primary school. Aggie accompanied me to the school, and she insisted on carrying the box on her head. The headmistress was delighted with the gifts and called an impromptu assembly on the parade ground so that I could distribute them. Each student received a pencil and a handshake from Mzungu. Erasers and other things were given to student leaders and other students chosen by the teachers. There was an old man standing nearby. I thought he had stopped to watch the celebration and to listen to the enthusiastic shouts of the children. The headmistress told me to give him a gift and she handed me a pen. Nice thought, but you see, this man was blind. Aggie took a picture of me giving a blind man a pen!
My fundi made me a new blue dress. The girls asked me what style I had chosen. I said I did not choose. It would be a surprise. When I put it on to wear to school, Fidesta told me that if I were to be married in Tanzania, I would be worth no less that 30 cows! (She really knows how to flatter me). When I walked into my form 6 classroom, all my students were already standing at attention (not common for them) and had their hands over their eyes. They removed them in unison and said "wow"! I am supposed to wear this dress to America.
No comments:
Post a Comment