“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat…” Matthew 26:35

Friday 11 July 2008
Bread for the Children.
Today Foster and I purchased the regular food supply for the school children. We made a trip to Masala Market. It’s a distance from here, but worth the trip when you consider the prices and the quality of food. Masala Market is a traditional Zambian Market, with roadside type booths constructed of scrap pieces of timbers and roofed with scavenged cardboard boxes which have been flattened and small pieces of discarded plastic. You can buy almost anything at Masala Market from clothing to food to house ware items. I think you can even get a haircut there. But our concentration today was food. We drove down the narrow dirt path, riddled with pot holes and ruts of all sizes, and were warmly greeted by our usual vendors. Foster has researched and discovered the most reliable vendors with the best prices and quality. There are enough beans at the school, so today’s purchases included kapenta (tiny whole fish), tomatoes, onions, and salt. As we returned to town we stopped to purchase small chickens, of which there were none, so we opted for buka fish. They are larger, meatier fish that are cut in half (the head being one half and the tail the other) and cooked in oil. We also purchased mealie meal which is ground maize used to make the staple food called nshima – something like stiff grits. We finished our purchases with soya nuggets, cooking oil, and dish soap. We had what amounted to about $5 left in our budget and were trying to decide if there was anything else we should or could buy for 140 children with only $5. Then Foster remembered the donation of a dear sweet lady from Prince of Peace Church in Ohio. During Foster’s recent visit there she had given him a bit of money and asked that he do something special for the children. After a brief discussion we decided on bread and butter. Not something we in the U.S. would normally consider a treat. We purchased loaves of freshly baked bread and lots of creamy butter and headed for the school. The children had just finished their lunch and were outside at the pump washing. Their excitement was apparent as we began unloading the loaves of bread from the car. With very little prompting from one of our teachers, Teddy, the children quickly formed lines according to age in front of the building. They waited patiently as the other teachers, Godfridah and Violet, and I sliced and buttered the bread. I could see the children through the window and watched as they alternately cheered and clapped, jumped up and down, and laughed and giggled in joyous anticipation. We covered a large plastic tub with a piece of plastic from the bread bags and stacked the thick slices of bread inside it, as high as we could. Each child passed through, from youngest to oldest, and received their thick slice of bread with lots of creamy butter in the usual manner here – both hands outstretched and a tiny polite curtsey of thanksgiving. And each and every child was wearing a huge smile. I watched as each child savored every morsel – some licking a little of the butter off first, enjoying the creamy texture and rich flavor. It was heartbreaking to realize that something I don’t give a second thought to could bring such joy to these amazing children. Bread and butter – what a treasured gift.