This life is more than ENOUGH to give praise for!

I pulled on my nike runners and changed into my indian pants and tattered Southern service day t-shirt.   Finally, Izeedor (13) got up and came out all sleepy-eyed.  The other neighborhood boy (18) (I actually don't know his name....too many to always remember) came too.  A 5 am run.  We started out and Izeedoor suddenly stopped because he drank too much water the night before :)   I laughed and said I would keep running while he took care of business!  He caught up and we wound through the village and out into the country.  We passed many people heading to the rice fields, balancing sharp rice blades and water containers on their heads as they walked.   We just kept running.  The sun began to rise!    JAW-DROPPING sunrise!  I thought, "Maybe this is magic;  the magic of God."  A miracle of beauty!  My heart seriously jumped at least 4 times.   I can't stop talking about something that pretty.   The sun cast itself up onto clouds and threw shots of different colors all about.  All of this light came from one big round ball of fire rising quicker than anywhere else I've been.  I couldn't help but run backwards so  I could watch the sunrise.  Our pace was perfect and our breathing was so synchronized.  We ran a solid 5k and returned to shower out of our buckets and eat up because Sabine was preparing breakfast over the coal fire.
I don't see poverty so much anymore.  I used to see it all the time.   The dirty-handed little kids.  Awful old rusted bikes.  All clothing tinted brown from dirt.  Noses dripping with snot.  No one wearing shoes.  Kids playing with bottle caps and dirty plastic bags.  Children eating plain-dirt-covered-potatoes.  Pants so outgrown that they can't zip anymore.  Dirt houses.  Holes for toilets.  Leaves for toilet paper.

Poverty.

       But rarely do I see it anymore.  Not because these conditions have disappeared, but perspective has shifted.  Understanding is starting to take place.  I mentioned this to another person here and they agreed!   They don't see it anymore either!
Now there are just a bunch of  free spirited little kids who don't NEED shoes.   That dirt-tie-dyed-shirt-with-five-

holes-in-it, well, that is their favorite shirt...you can't take it away.  The huts are cozy and so many amazing memories are made in their gates.  The boiled potatoes fill your belly quick so you can play more.  The use of leaves for toilet paper cuts down on the garbage.  I still see poverty in the streets of the market and a few other places like this.  But amidst the general population, the riches are endless.
       However, I see suffering on a really regular basis at the hospital and this is where I've really seen the poor in spirit: the worst kind of poverty.  I hate it when mothers weep over their dead babies.   Hate it.  I hate it that Rosalie has only one foot now and feels really discouraged that she'll never walk again.  I hate it that nuero-sicknesses are simply hopeless here.  I hate hearing the lady with hepatomegaly-liver swollen like a football crying out in pain during the night shift.  I hate telling a family that their baby is REALLY not alive.   BUT!!!!  We are fighters against all this unfairness.   We are lookers for something better.   We are rooters for good.  We are enjoyers of the sparkling, firey gifts that we HAVE been given.
I miss you all so much.   Thank you so much for helping me come here.   Can't thank you enough.  Sincerely, Emily Star Wilkens