Dear Cherished Interested’s,                                                                                         February 14th, 2023

Yesterday afternoon we followed the Coaster/Bus to the school where the Children’s Village children are attending.  We were given a tour by the new headmaster of Upendo School.  He is a young man, as they all are to us, this one known to Hilda from her first year among local educational circles here. 

With pride he showed his acquaintance and her husband around the school.  Nearly every class, the school has well over Three Hundred attending and only 60-ish are from The Children’s Village, had a voice ring out,” Bibi!..  Babu!”  They fearlessly identify us as their grandparents now.  The Mama’s who care for the whole village of children including those too old for this school and too young, identify us as theirs too.

Your Prayers for our consistency are heard and so very fruitful.  Thank You.

This is a far less well-off school than Silverleaf, where the children were last year.  It is however, where they attended the year before last.  The intervening year and change in ownership is reported to have been a real boon and benefit.  As grandparents who scan faces and body language, striving to ignore material things that are not available, I am glad to report that the children were calm, happy, open.  That means that children know they are safe.  If these children know they are safe, they are hungry to learn.  That means that they are.  This learning happening without much of the presumed irreducibly important material things for contemporary North American instruction.  

The children who know us gathered to the Coaster and we waved them on their way.  We have traveled with these littles in that same bus and they all know our little truck too. 

I noticed a young white woman sitting outside Upendo School with a Maasai woman dressed in non-traditional dress.  They were waiting for their little over a dozen to be walked about a kilometer and a half to their communal home.  The white girl, Sarah, is from France.  She has been here for two months and has only two weeks left before she flies home.  She dreads leaving.  GOOD!  I told her I was proud of her for letting this place live inside her heart.  This is difficult to do.  There is overwhelmingly beyond overwhelming need with nearly every new face.  It takes real guts not to be driven or run away from it.

The Maasai woman knew of where I served among her people for such a short time in two different years, eight and nine years ago, in the bush Northwest of here.  She happily identified herself as Maasai and waved her finger before her face to indicate the tribal facial scarring she bears.  Yes, it is different from Meru facial scarring but that tradition too is no longer universal.  I notice, but not after noticing the person.  Hilda see’s only people.  Hilda walked with these new acquaintances and their little charges all the way back to their home.  I followed with the truck.

As Upendo School is deficient in comparison to Silverleaf, so is Moses Comfort Home materially deficient in comparison to The Children’s Village.  The only white there is that precious twenty-two year old French girl soon to be going home.  This is an orphanage started and still shepherded by yet another Meru grandmother.  Local people doing all they can to keep children alive.  We learned through broken English and broken Swahili that Upendo School has taken these children, living without roofs, yet, and has not demanded payment of school fees, nor fees for food. 

We do not know the owner of Upendo School and Blue Sky School.  The same person now owns both.  Please pray for that owner and their family anyway.  In this place with that median age of 17, community works precious miracles that take my breath away. 

Moses Comfort Home is an orphanage tucked back away out of sight.  It is only impoverished local folks trying in faith to save some children.  They are not connected with any Safari company who brings wealthy visitors to gawp at them.  Because of how the adults treated us, the children were without fear.  The children were well cared for as proved by their comportment.  More arrived home from a different school bravely shepherded by that young girl from France while we were shown around and listened to the story of survival and improvement. 

No, we can’t fix things.  We sold our home in America in order to come and try to make a difference in moments.  We can choose not to run away. 

We can choose to stay still and listen.  We can choose to stay still and affirm.  We can uphold the faith of people doing the impossible so they do not lose hold of where their strength comes.  It does not come from overseas.  In this case for this group of fortunate children living without roofs but now inside a wall, it does not come from wealthy whites or blacks or arabs or asians.  It comes from our creator and savior who teaches precious leadership practices like self-sacrifice for someone else’s sake.  Those practices lived by a Meru grandmother and a Maasai woman and those they can trust to share the work with.  Even a twenty-two year old French girl.  Even us. 

We promised to write you about them, this Moses Comfort Home tucked way back out of sight off the local road, not the big road, in Usa, Tanzania.  Yes the thought of being prayed for is hugely beneficial here.  Thank You for taking the time to even read this.  I know it is hard to listen.  I know it may be easier to run or be driven away.  Thank you for having grit and choosing not to be.

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The Children’s Village Mama’s and my ridiculous slowness in figuring something out. 

Perhaps that slowness is right.  These are people who do not like to ask for help from Hilda and I.  They know our story.  They know and have listened to our journey enough to regard us as theirs and not a bank.  Still, I have been writing and giving messages from scripture to these hard working Mama’s for nearly a year now.  The last third of that year we have found a way to print those messages out.  Some would read the Swahili out for the group.  Many would not. 

Wave your fingers and say DUH Vern!

Two Sundays now have depleted my supply of reading glasses.  There are all levels of far-sighted-ness among this precious group of women.  The year was necessary for trust to build to where I could take each aside, in private, and work with different pairs of glasses until one was found for each Mama in need. 

They are all brilliant.  They are all fluent.  Their joy at reading scripture again leading some to leap and dance and twirl like some of the teenagers they love and keep.  They love us.  They know we love them too.  Whatever is ahead. 

Thank You for your precious prayer part in this.  Thank you for waking me up to this need.

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Minor skin surgery for me next week Tuesday.  Local office, local doctor, Hilda approved. 

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WE don’t fit the expected boxes..  The local folks have decided to either love us or hate us for that.  The ones who love us seem to be winning..  I think your praying has been a huge part in that.  God is listening, watching..  laughing some too?? 

Thank You for that.

Also please Pray for:

Visa situation..  Except for perhaps needing to drive to Kenya to cross the border and re-enter TZ every 90 days, the Visa stamp in our passports indicates current until 2024.  Thank You!

Gratitude..

Gratitude for our time in the Pacific Northwest and over to Colorado for those dear children and grandchildren who miss us and whom we are overjoyed to have had our precious time with.

Makumira Secondary School, my brilliant helper Elisha’s school, is looking to share stories and partner in some way with a foreign school, Great leaders, teachers, students, programs, strong backs, minds, and hearts –

Moses Comfort Home / Upendo School / Blue Sky School  -

Imbasenny school is one of two schools run by a Mchungaji here.  He requests prayer for Imbasenny school as that school has no external support and parents school fees fall short of what the job takes.

Hilda’s continued invisibility to those who can only see their own authority –

Our armed forces families, our leadership, our people, whole world round, all of God’s kids -

All the tough and blessing expressed above –

The love of folks –

Whatever is on your hearts and minds for us –

I continue to be under much harsh spiritual attack concerning my sense of self-worth and those many things I have yet to get to, please, only as you are comfortable, remember me, indeed us.. the world doesn’t like what we are doing out of love we don’t own.. yet have none the less..  –

Us is not only Hilda and I but a growing circle of local folks.  Please imagine them too as you pray for ‘us’. -

For our health to stay ahead of whatever is before us, for us to let our health fail so others can shine –

For a way for us to invest with our experience and even financially in support of local industrious people so we can afford to stay and continue to make a difference one face at a time –

For those who have braved the donate button to discover Kajun Crofton, our daughter who helps getting each one of your donations to us and every blogpost to where you can read it –

For you who find other ways to uplift and support us -

For each and every one of you –

Each and every one of your prayers, your precious conversations with God –

Prayers, Your Prayer, skipping stone and even groaning prayers make all the difference..

If we should ever cross your mind, even if we are strange and confusing, just grunt, crumple us up and throw us at God.  That is where we need to be.. 

Vern W

May life be as Music to your Heart – May Music be as Heart to your Life – May Heart be as Life to your Music