Helpless and Helpful

Not a week goes by here without some reminder of the immense needs in this country. The past weekend I was again so graphically reminded of this.

I was out at Beautiful Gate on Saturday. We are changing our salaries structure in response to some changes in the country’s minimum wage guidelines, and I was updating the different teams on the changes. As always, when adjustments are made to wages, not everyone is happy, and I was dealing with some disappointment and a tinge of bitterness from a couple of staff regarding the modest increases. Our meeting had been interrupted by a report of a woman at the gate with a baby, so after the meeting the team leader and I checked out that situation.

We were expecting a request to take a baby but we were wrong. Instead, in juxtaposition to the complaints of not receiving enough, was a woman in tears. She was the baby’s grandmother. The mother, her daughter, having died last May of AIDS when the baby was but an infant. This grandmother was now caring for the baby, and while the baby looked so very healthy, it had been ill for a couple of days. During that brief illness the grandmother had missed some days of work from her job in the garment factories. Missing work at the factories is anathema and her position had been given to someone else. So here she was, now unemployed, with a grandchild to care for, and pleading, with tears in her eyes, for a job at Beautiful Gate.

Oh, the pathos of the situation, and the feeling of helplessness in my soul. Yes, we are hiring relief workers but I have 60 applications on my desk, many with a similar need. What I could do seemed so minimal - giving her an application, a ride to the taxi (bus) stop, and a few rand. For me it was a trying moment in another way. One of my hopes in coming to Lesotho was to make a difference in grandparent headed households. Here was one in front of me, and I was helpless. I hope God will allow our paths to cross again someday when I might be able to do more.

But the day didn’t end with helplessness. Later that Saturday I had picked up a simple bunk bed we had ordered for Thabiso and his sisters. When I arrived at their home, only the grandmother was there. She can’t speak a work of English, and her Sesotho is garbled due to a past facial injury, so I couldn’t grasp a word she said in Sesotho, but working together to got the bed together. It was a rewarding and special time.

First, Thabiso had noted that a bed would be something that would be helpful, and it was fun to think about the reaction when he and his sisters would arrive home to the bed. Then, it was just such a special moment, spending time with the grandmother. It is the third time I have met her and I have come to so enjoy her. Though we come from worlds apart, we share an interest in the well being of her grandchildren and that brings us together.

God you are so good. How do I measure the joy, the privilege, the endorphin high, that you provided me from spending time with this grandmother? The step by step journey with God, that has led me to where I am today, is a journey with no regrets other than sometimes wishing I could do more.

~ Benno ~