A home in our neighborhood burned down this week. A house of cards balanced together, grass mat and zinc. It only took a hint of a flame to burn the entire place to the ground. A mother, Ellen, and her seven children lost everything. Literally everything. But they are thanking God for their lives. They were all inside sleeping when the fire started. Now squatting on the foundation of what used to be their house. Sleeping, cooking, living outside with nothing over their heads. Exposed to the world-- hot sun, pouring rain, stolen glances by passersby.
I met them today. Ellen, wrapped only in a lapa, scrapping together some snails to try and sell in the market. Her girls, names we all know, Mary, Hannah, Hawa, Mercy standing by deer eyed, their lives turned upside down. Momo guided me there. Earlier in the week we had sent some clothes and other miscellaneous supplies. Ellen thanked me. The girls laughed when I said their names. We left. We talked on the way back to our house about how bad we felt. The clothes, while needed, seemed too small of a bandage to cover their wound. Momo lead the conversation (or was it God), "what ever you want to do bosslady."
At home we found a few sheets of left over zinc, at least it could be a small cover for their heads. They also need walls. Grass mat. Three dollars and fifty cents for one. Twenty US dollars and their entire house (almost) could be walled in. Twenty dollars! That is pocket change for a lot of people. But this family was house-less.
Not for long.
Momo was off. On a mission. Zinc on his head. Grass mat loaded in the back of our new truck. Momo sitting on top to hold it down. King Momo on his chariot. A different kind of rescue. Not just grass mat and zinc-- a home.
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