“Sing praise songs to God…Raise the roof!” Isaiah 12:5

Think back to yesteryear and the Walton’s television show, and try to remember the sawmill they used. Ron, Philemon and Eric, our carpenter went to pick up timbers at the sawmill in Ndola yesterday. The yard was filled with pine logs and mountains of sawdust. The logs are delivered by truck, rolled from the truck into haphazard piles, then carried to the mill area by two men. There were three pine tree logs earmarked for us, all about 20 feet long and 2 feet in diameter which were cut into four timbers. The men placed each log on the saw table, and began cutting our timbers with a saw blade that appeared roughly three feet in diameter, water flowing over it to reduce friction. It was interesting that no one observed any kind of measurements being taken, yet all four timbers came out perfectly? These four timbers were for the peak of the roof, and the joists are then placed on top of them. And so, yesterday we saw the roof begin to take shape on the children’s home.
Foster and I went in search of baby Frederick yesterday. He was the child who had been admitted to Children’s Hospital suffering from malnutrition, and has since been discharged. We asked Godwin if he knew how to find the home. He said “I know the place.” So we drove, and we drove. We drove down the main highway to Dag Hammarskjöld, a neighboring community to George. The drive into Dag Hammarskjöld is like a beautiful painting; tall, tall pines lining the narrow dirt road which we followed for 5 kilometers. Then into an open area filled with high tension wires where the government is building a large girl’s high school. Then onto a less than single lane dirt path, winding to and fro, up and down, elephant grass high along the sides for another 5 kilometers, until we finally reached the home of Frederick Kalunga. It is difficult to imagine that the tiny woman we know as Frederick’s mother had carried her sick child such a great distance, walking for what must have been many, many hours to reach our clinic. The area they live in is filled with elephant grass, and homes are not as close together as we normally see. We were warmly greeted by the grandmother, also tiny and slight of frame, who said her daughter had taken her family to Nduba Farms some distance away, to look for work. Unfortunately it was near dark, so we were not able to travel on. We will see them another day.
Today I drove to Kasongo to see Fridah, Violet and Peter. Fridah was in classes all last week, completing a TB-HIV Adherence Counseling Training Course in Luanshya. She proudly displayed her certificate of completion and t-shirt she had received, saying she had learned much. Unfortunately, Violet had not fared so well in Fridah’s absence, not having used the crutches last week, her casts were in very bad condition. Peter’s cast was solid, and he was wearing the orthopedic boot and using his cane as a crutch. When we removed the cast, Peter proudly walked across the room, and all the women cheered and clapped to see him walking on the bottom of his foot more than the side of his foot! His grandmother takes very, very good care of him. I learned today that Peter is a double orphan, and he and his older sister live with their grandparents. Fridah’s nearly two-year old niece, Blessings, was with us today, and was absolutely fascinated by the casting process. She watched intently the whole while Fridah and I knelt on the floor - her tiny little head perched on top of my shoulder, curious, but not afraid. Blessings requested a ride in the car, and Peter’s grandmother invited me to visit their home, so we all piled into the car and drove down another winding, dusty path to find their home. We visited a short while, and I met Peter’s older sister (about 9 or 10 years old). Blessings enjoyed the car ride – a tiny little voice saying “thank you” between a few tears, not wanting the ride to end.
Today, Ron is not feeling well – slight fever, coughing and the usual cold symptoms. He still picked up timbers and blocks. Hope his cold does not last long.