The Bus Stop outside the squatter camp.
Okay, back to my South Africa mission trip. In my last Africa post I introduced you to Esther's neighbors to the left. Now, meet her neighbor to the right...Christina, a 79-year-old widow who lives alone. She can hardly walk, even with her walker.
Christina has no running water, no stove, no electricity or plumbing, no bed (unless you count a make-shift one made from boxes and an armchair). She lives in a concrete block 2-room home. Christina is a trip, to say the least. She was our first stop every day on our journey through the Joe Slovo squatter camp. To put it kindly, the South African home-care workers we were with warned us that she was "moody."
Christina didn't look at us, greet us, or even come close to smiling at us when we arrived the first day. Her bones were hurting and she wanted some relief. When we explained through the translator that we weren't doctors, she rolled her eyes and shook her head as if to say, "A lot of help you will be!" I laughed at her response because honestly, I was wondering the same thing ...what do I possibly have to offer these people who need so much? I am just a stay-at-home mom with a public relations degree that I don't use.
Despite her exasperation, we proceeded with our visit. We did her dishes and cleaned her house while she waited outside. I looked in her cabinet for food and there was none...I mean NONE. There were 2 gourds in the corner on the floor so I asked the home care worker if we could prepare them for her. She said you boil them. Well, I can do that...I can go fetch water and make her some food. Then we discovered she had no stove, no pans, nothing. "How do you eat?" we asked her. She said she eats if her son brings her food and if he comes it's late at night. "Are you hungry?" I asked. She shook her head "yes." All I could do is leave her the lunch that had been given to me for that day. I gave her 1/2 sandwich and an orange. She sat in the sunshine and ate slowly, savoring each bite.
Next, we asked her if she wanted a bath. She did, but we had no warm water and it was cold that day (it's winter there). So one of our team members went in her home and just washed her arms and legs with a wet wipe and rubbed lotion on her. While they were alone in the house, Christina finally began to talk some and expressed her loneliness over and over. We promised to come back the next day.
The next day, we came prepared to give a "real" bath. The camp we stayed at had these water bottles that kept water warm that you could put in your sleeping bag at night. We filled one up with warm water before we left that morning for Christina's bath. When we arrived, the same team member, Rachel, went with Christina and gave her a good, long bath. Rachel said she just scrubbed and scrubbed. The water Rachel came out of the house with was dark brown with dirt...who knows how long it had been since she had a bath...how good must it have felt to be clean!
As we were leaving, Christina began to soften some and open up. She even asked for a Bible, even though she cannot read. She said she wanted to put it under her pillow at night.
On our last day, Christina was sitting outside waiting for us to arrive. I rubbed her shoulders and she relaxed and let me love on her. Rachel pulled out a Bible for her and read Scripture to her. We explained that this would be our last day. "Why?" she asked. We asked if we could take her photo. "Yes," she said..."but first let me go and change." We laughed...women are alike, aren't we? 30 MINUTES LATER (seriously) she came out in a new dress, and new scarf on her head, ready for the photo. Meet Christina, pictured here with our team-member Rachel:
She refused to smile in the picture...but we did get some smiles from her that last day. As we walked away, fighting tears, we looked back and Christina was holding her new Bible upside down, pretending to read it...what a sight that was.
"Lord," I prayed as we walked away, "Speak to her in her sleep as her head lays on Your Word. Reveal Yourself to her, Lord. I know You can."
Christina grabbed our hearts. The loneliness she tried to hide with her gruff exterior melted away easily if you just spent a little time loving on her. I will never forget rubbing her back in the South African sunshine, watching her close her eyes and relax into the massage. In a land of nothing, the littlest things make such a big difference...a hug, a smile, a back rub, a bath, 1/2 of a sandwich...can any of us claim we don't have this to give?
There are lots of "Go-Go's" (grandmothers in South Africa) and widows who I'm sure could use a back rub, or even just a visit...just a little love. Whether it's in Africa or Alabama, God says to care for the widows. And it's a beautiful moment when the scowl turns into a smile..
