I was gasping for air, trying to fill my lungs with the oxygen I knew my muscles needed. It was on the three-mile walk (climb) back to the car from the inauguration celebration of a new well in Senglamon, Tigre. As I had descended, I knew there would be this climb back up, but had hoped for a mule to carry my 75 year-old body up most of the way. The mule never came! They said, “The mule is lost.” Resting about every ten meters, I became more familiar with the faces and countenances of those around me. One older man held an umbrella over me as I walked, shading me from the fierce sun. One woman took my hand and led me some of the way. Boys silently waited for me to catch up; perched upon the very rocks we all had to climb over.

                At my age, and at an elevation of about 4,000 feet, I was thankful that I could even maneuver! The celebration of the ribbon-cutting of this well had been exhilarating. There had been music, dancing, speeches of thanksgiving, and food—popcorn, ambasha and injera with shiro. One of the speeches included pleas for their neighbors; those just over in the next valley.

                It is these rural people of Ethiopia, those who have never had clean, safe water which make Water To Thrive’s mission alive. Witnessing their joy and thankfulness helps me to know that our mission is so worthwhile. I am enabled to continue to seek donations from those who have enough. I am enabled to help people see that until everyone has enough, that we are not fulfilled in our relationship to God and His people. 

 

 

                I was gasping for air, trying to fill my lungs with the oxygen I knew my muscles needed. It was on the three-mile walk (climb) back to the car from the inauguration celebration of a new well in Senglamon, Tigre. As I had descended, I knew there would be this climb back up, but had hoped for a mule to carry my 75 year-old body up most of the way. The mule never came! They said, “The mule is lost.” Resting about every ten meters, I became more familiar with the faces and countenances of those around me. One older man held an umbrella over me as I walked, shading me from the fierce sun. One woman took my hand and led me some of the way. Boys silently waited for me to catch up; perched upon the very rocks we all had to climb over.

                At my age, and at an elevation of about 4,000 feet, I was thankful that I could even maneuver! The celebration of the ribbon-cutting of this well had been exhilarating. There had been music, dancing, speeches of thanksgiving, and food—popcorn, ambasha and injera with shiro. One of the speeches included pleas for their neighbors; those just over in the next valley.

                It is these rural people of Ethiopia, those who have never had clean, safe water which make Water To Thrive’s mission alive. Witnessing their joy and thankfulness helps me to know that our mission is so worthwhile. I am enabled to continue to seek donations from those who have enough. I am enabled to help people see that until everyone has enough, that we are not fulfilled in our relationship to God and His people.