June 19, 2011
In memory of my father, “Happy Father’s Day”
Dedicated to my mother, “Happy Birthday Mom”
Down in the flatlands surrounding Moshi, I have noticed some unusual free-standing hills. What makes them odd is that some of them have been nearly carved in half, most likely by human hands. Every time I see them, I wonder, “How does one move a mountain: bucket by bucket or one stone at a time, and if you were to try to move a mountain, how long would it take?”
Traveling across the Same desert last week, I was surprised to see that the usual barren landscape had turned green. But what struck me most were the flowers adorning many of the scrubby bushes, vibrant splashes of color amidst the otherwise bleak terrain.
It was a long bus ride to Morogoro and I had nothing to do but think, so I contemplated moving mountains and thought about recent splashes of color in my life.
Protas, a young man who prepares the food for the priests, the sisters, and the girls who live at the church hostel, came to my house one day to ask if I would teach him English. I was not certain that I would be able to help him much, but I said ok. With a big smile on his face, he thanked me profusely, “Thank you Madam, thank you madam. I will come on Sunday.” Then he bowed and ran away. The next Sunday afternoon, he was at my door dressed in his best clothes and with a brand new exercise book in hand. We started with simple greetings, and although he was thrilled with everything we did, what captivated him most was learning prayers. He wanted to pray the Rosary in English. Fortunately, even though I am not Catholic, I spent many years helping my own children learn these same prayers. So together we recited the “Glory Be,” “Our Father,” “Hail Mary,” and the “Apostles’ Creed,” in Swahili and in English. Aggie was there to help us. One Sunday, as Protas was preparing to leave, Aggie told him that I would soon be returning to America forever. His face fell and he said, “No Madam! Please stay!” I told him that I had to go and then he said, “Then take me with you.” “Protas, I cannot take you to America.” “But why Madam, is it because of my English?” “No Protas, it is because you do not have a passport.” He laughed at that but I noticed as he walked away, that the usual spring in his step was missing. Aggie told me 
afterward that Protas had never been to school and that learning English was making him very happy. I was shocked! What I was thinking was ordinary was really extraordinary. Here was my splash of color in the desert. Protas had never been to school, yet he could read and write. Protas had only one afternoon free every week and he was using it to learn the Lord’s Prayer in English. The small amount of time that I was sacrificing was nothing in comparison to what it had given him: dignity and a sense of self-worth. With God’s help, Protas had moved his mountain; he had added color to his own dreary life.
afterward that Protas had never been to school and that learning English was making him very happy. I was shocked! What I was thinking was ordinary was really extraordinary. Here was my splash of color in the desert. Protas had never been to school, yet he could read and write. Protas had only one afternoon free every week and he was using it to learn the Lord’s Prayer in English. The small amount of time that I was sacrificing was nothing in comparison to what it had given him: dignity and a sense of self-worth. With God’s help, Protas had moved his mountain; he had added color to his own dreary life. 
Here at Mkuu, we have one teacher who is in charge of preparing and conducting “practicals” (science labs) with students. The other day, I went in to observe my form 6 students perform a qualitative analysis practical. While they were busily engaged in many chemical tests, I talked to Mr. Ludovick, the young teacher in charge. I gave him another lab manual that I had acquired at some Peace Corps training. He showed me a pair of rubber safety goggles that he had purchased for himself after reading a manual I had given him about lab safety. I praised him for his good decision. Then he said, “Madam, I see you are not like other teachers. You are so different. Your students love you. Madam you have really helped us very much. Please extend your contract. Stay for another year.” I have not really felt like I have made a big impact here at Mkuu, especially among the teachers, so it was nice to hear him say that maybe I have made a difference. I said to him, “I am sorry. I like it here but it is time for me to go. I must go home, but Mr. Ludovick, I have noticed that you are different too. You do not just come to school to eat lunch and make stories. I have never seen you yell or hit a student with a stick. You work very hard, and you have done a great job preparing these practicals. You care about your work and the students see it. I know that being a teacher is not easy here in Tanzania, however I believe that you can help to change that. Continue being a good role model for the others and maybe some will follow.” As he replied, I once again sensed color being splashed across a barren bush. He said,“Thank you Madam, but I have only been copying you. You inspire me. I will really miss you when you go. Your students and I, you will hear us crying from the plane.” Again I was amazed by the realization that Mr. Ludovick was also moving a mountain, because he had decided to be different from the rest. Both he and Protas were embracing change because they wanted more from life.Small splashes of color, little glimmers of light, unexpected acts of kindness, and lots of love; that is what is needed to move a mountain.
Moving Mountains
How does one move a mountain?
Bucket by bucket or one stone at a time?
How does one move a mountain?
And if you try, how long will it take?
Maybe as long as your dream.
I struggled to move my mountain
By shouldering the load alone.
I struggled to move my mountain
But when the burden became too heavy
And I fell to my knees in defeat,
It was there in the quiet I sensed it,
Within me, around me:
A presence, a force, a peace
Incomprehensible power
And then
My mountain moved.
