There is an old woman walking through the mountains carrying a baby on her back. She has been sent by her extended family, seeking something for this little baby who needs help. She is walking to SIM on the edge of
It isn't just one woman: we have found many of these older women on the veranda of our clinic. Their stories are often similar- she is a great aunt, or a grandmother, or a great grandmother. The mother of the baby is said to have died in childbirth, and these women are hoping we can help feed the baby in the critical early months of life.
So we discuss whether these babies should be admitted to our House of Hope- "Mana Abdii" in the local Oromo language. This house is a place babies can live for the first nine months of their life, be well cared for, and receive the nutrition they need. Once they are eating table food they are returned to their families and communities.
To gather information regarding the children's families and communities, we recently decided to make a visit to the home of each baby that came to us. Which is how, on that Thursday morning, I found myself riding a horse through the barley fields…..
Have you seen barely growing? The green is so bright and beautiful. "Here up in the mountains, teff does not grow, and we can't grow corn. So it is barley here." Our guide explains their farming practices, so different here a few hours' drive into the mountains than our lakeside scenery. I'm wearing a jacket as it is cool, and enjoying the look of the clouds hanging low over the rolling fields. Surely
People come from this distance to our clinic and for our House of Hope? I am amazed, as even with a car we are still left with a couple hours of horseback travel through country impassible in our Land Cruiser.
And I sit in the saddle and marvel- surely I am at the ends of the earth, am I not traveling further than I have ever been into these mountains, away from all I know? New roads, new territory, to see the family of this baby seeking help and assess the environment……
…but wait, why am I traveling new roads, riding into these far reaching hills? Not just for some milk powder, or someone's nutrition. Have my feet not been shod with the gospel of Peace? Did I not leave my country to share the message of salvation through Jesus Christ?
My mind wanders as we move through the hills, arriving at last at the village's central meeting place. The village elders have gathered to hear what we have to say. Adanech explains to them after we sit down, "We have a house that can help this baby whose mother has died. We have come to meet you and learn about your community." She continued to explain that because of the expense and energy of raising one child to nine months of age, we seek to gather information carefully before admitting the baby to our House of Hope. The elders listened, nodded, and spoke very cooperatively and warmly to us.
"Also," I added, as we finished our business, "we are not here only to help a child. We are able to help these children because people in our countries want to show you God's love. Just like this little baby who is helpless to help himself, we are helpless before God. He gives us the gift of His grace and favor when we did not deserve it."
Our House of Hope is made to show God's love to anyone it contacts. Those listening understood and agreed with our cause, stating they were only grateful we had come and that we were willing to help this family from their community now in need after the death of this baby's mother.
So this little baby was admitted to Mana Abdii. We are grateful to have a relationship with the community in which he will grow up when he leaves us, and grateful that they heard and understand why we exist. We have been able to lift a great burden from this family at a critical time.
