Just Two Months

Remember the song “What a Difference a Day Makes”? What I remember is this. “What a difference a day makes, twenty four little hours. With the sun and the flowers, where there used to be rain.”

Remember Darlene and Jerrine, the twin babies we rescued back in September? (Sept. 9 blog) What I remember most about baby Darlene (unlike her better nourished sister) is the ribs protruding through her sagging skin.

Well take a look a Darlene now. She has lived at the Nursery for just 2 months. And now we are singing: “What a difference two months make, 61 little days. With the gurgles of praise, where there used to be pain.”

Two months is not two days. Rejuvenation is not resurrection. But just as God raised Christ from the dead on the third day, so God has breathed new life into Darlene in this second month.

This is why we are here. This is why; in spite of our doubts, in spite of our questions, and in spite of the hardships that may lie ahead for baby Darlene; this gift of new life is why the Mzuzu Crisis Nursery exists.

Upon admission (at 3 & 1/2 weeks old)  baby Darlene weighed just 4.6 pounds.

      Now she weighs 10.3 pounds.

Upon admission she drank just 1.5 oz of formula every 2 hours.

      Now she drinks 6 oz. of formula every 3 hours.

Upon admission she looked like a poster child for famine relief.

      Now she looks like a poster child for good nutrition.

YES! 

Through God’s amazing grace, this is what we to do here at the Mzuzu Crisis Nursery—practice resurrection.

Eunice is Gone

There is a big empty place in the Mzuzu Crisis Nursery today.

At nap time, walking past her room, I automatically peek into her crib. But it is empty, of course. Still, I keep expecting to see her toddle down the hallway to visit my office with her smile and a hug. She was the ring leader of the toddler gang who helps keep things lively around here. And she was so proud of her new shoes. Shoes made for walking. Shoes she wore when she walked out of the Nursery and into the truck which took her back to her home village.

Eunice had been a special presence at the Nursery over the last 16 months. Her mother died a few weeks after childbirth. Her father, barely capable of caring for himself, essentially dumped the care of Eunice’s 2 sisters and 2 brothers in the lap of local relatives. But Eunice was too tiny, her need for care too great.

Responding to a call from Malawi Social Welfare, our staff sprung into action. Driving some two hours north we arrived at her village, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and brought her back to her new home at the Nursery. Even then she had a special spark. She was a contented baby and her crier rarely went off.

Eunice could fall asleep anywhere, any time. In fact her five minutes of fame came when she was featured on YouTube as the amazing vertical sleeping baby. Like a Weeble, sitting upright on the floor, Eunice wobbles but does not fall down. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kj7JNIj-Vz4

Last week she went to town to do some banking with me and Augustine (our A.A.). While we struggled to stuff her under the straps of the car seat she never registered a sound of complaint. She was so quiet on the way to town I assumed she had fallen asleep. Instead, she was taking in all the sights. At the bank she walked around showing off her new shoes to everyone.

Last Friday we sang, prayed, and waved goodbye to Eunice. Augustine & Veronica drove the 2 hours back to the village and handed her off. Her father is still barely competent to care for himself, let alone Eunice. But, thank goodness, her aunt and uncle have opened their home, their arms, and their hearts to welcome her into their family along with their own 4 children.

Any one of our babies can win your heart. Nevertheless, Eunice is special. She has left an empty place here at the Nursery.

However, tomorrow Augustine I travel to a distant village to rescued another precious bundle of love—6 week old Joshua.

Dry Season

It’s been months. Except for one early morning shower-surprise, it has been months since we have had any rain. During rainy season this was the ideal we longed for—relief from all the mud and water and power outages and fierce storms. But now we’re singing a different tune: “Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain!”

When the rain goes, the heat comes. Here in Mzuzu it is sunny and about 95 during the day. But we are at 4,500 feet so the altitude saves us. In fact, it cools down into the 60's most every night. But like our friends in Southern California we get a kick out of whining about “one damn sunny day after another!”

Along the shore of Lake Malawi, at near sea level, things are different. At the Lakeshore it's HOT. As high as 120+ degrees F. The sun feels like it is burning your skin after only 2 minutes exposure. Coming from the northern Adirondacks this is a new experience for us. Even when we visit the capital, Lilongwe, the buildings radiate the heat they have saved up all day, all night. The crowds feel bigger, the trucks louder, the tolerance level lower. Bare feet burn on hot pavement. When the power goes out the fans go off and then the heat closes in. But then, only 6 percent of Malawians have power anyway.

And the DUST. On our early morning walks (we walk at around 5:30am when it is cool) we are occasionally passed by a truck or car. The dust stirred up by the passing vehicle settles on your hair, your skin, your clothes – it's pretty grimy. The redness of the soil seems to be ground into our feet and under our nails. Even the dog is dusty – great clouds emanating from his fur when we pet him. When it's windy, swirls of dust dance across the road and scurry along into the bush.

Now add fire and smoke. Virtually everyone everywhere sets brush fires during dry season. Instead of mulching they burn. One organic farmer compares it to burning the family jewels. As a result, smoke is ubiquitous. Not a day goes by during dry season when the air is not polluted with smoke. Some days the Malawi country side could compete with Los Angeles for poorest air quality.

An upside of this season is things dry really fast. When hung outside, the laundry is dry in 20 minutes. Anything I hang in the house to dry will dry almost as quickly. It's actually quite amazing. But my flowers are drying out as well. I am watering 2 times a day but, except for a few hardy plants, I am losing the battle.

Yes, we long for rain. Not too much, mind you. Not the fierce storms drowning crops and washing away every remnant of topsoil that happens to be hanging around. Not the relentless downpours gouging away roads and clogging the hydro power intakes so we have no power for long periods. Not the raging torrents felling trees that take down the already tenuous power lines. No, we long for just enough rain to keep the dust and the temperature down and bring the crops up.

So, a little rain is needed here. Of course, it’s not expected before December, and even then, you never know. Like weather anywhere, we are at the whim of nature. What we really hope for is the right amount of rain at the right time so this year's corn crop will do well and Malawi will have food enough for another year.