Praying hands

November 1, 2016

 

Upon entering the village to install the next well, our truck was once again surrounded by celebrating villagers.  Such excitement and joy embraced us.  As I began to climb down from the driver’s seat of the truck, a 5 year old little barefoot girl came and immediately took my hand to escort me to the well site.  I was told that her name was Wyneece. As we walked down the long and steep incline, she slowed to make sure I was safe – still holding tightly to my hand.  She remained close beside me as the data was entered into the Android, the pump was installed, and the well dedication began.  Wyneece’s Uncle, the Headman of the Village, opened the dedication with prayer and as I had done hundreds of times before, I knelt down beside the well and placed both of my hands on the top slab.  Surprised to feel someone kneeling beside me, I opened my eyes to find Wyneece with head bowed.  As I began to close my eyes, she placed her small little dusty hand on top of my hand where it remained until the final Amen.

 

When we returned to the truck – still hand in hand – her Uncle told our Field Officer that I was the first Mzungu (White person) she had ever seen.  I will never forget the picture of her kneeling with me at the well.  Some of our most memorable pictures cannot be captured by a camera – this is one of those - but it will remain forever in my heart.

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