Bob Peterson and I have been hand carrying 25 pound cement blocks two at a time 100 paces for 90 minutes under the relentless Malian sun. We were decked out in steel toes, long pants, leather palm gloves, gray NH tee-shirts, wide brim hats, sunglasses, and sun block with SPF of 45 or 50. And there she was, slowly walking towards us. She was barefoot and dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt. She carefully perched herself up on a single layer of cement blocks. Quickly, she was followed by her two older brothers. The younger was shirtless and in bib overalls and flip flops. The older boy was barefoot in shorts and a tee-shirt. "Toe go, Bill, toe go Bob," I said as I pointed to our name tags. "Nay toe go?" I asked. Downcast eyes were the only response. "See, I'm wearing bib overalls just like yours," I gestured. A smile started to appear. The younger boy had a marble in one hand. We attempted to show him how to play marbles, with no response. The older boy was holding a small plastic tire from a missing toy truck. Bob rolled the small tire 50 yards across the parched sub-Saharan African bush landscape, with a laughing boy in hot pursuit. We had three new little buddies. Bob and I went back to lifting blocks, but this time we were accompanied every step. Return trips featured shoulder rides and skipping. As we stopped and bent over to pick up our next two blocks, there was the older boy, squatting behind a block. Without hesitation, he lifted the 25 pound cement block and settled it across his tiny thighs. With a determined bear hug grip on his block, he stood up and began to walk at our side. The distance was 100 adult paces, I did not count how many it took a small child. Two more trips, and we had moved five blocks. On the third trip, the little sister, too small to copy her brother, attempted to drag a block behind her.

   These blocks are being used to build a dormitory for other Malian children less fortunate than our three new friends. They have a one room home nearby with parents who love and care for them. Le Centre Dorcas, the size of two football fields side by side, is rising. What once was just a vision of Pastor Dembele, is now becoming a reality. This will be a place for our three new friends and their generation to learn about Jesus Christ.

   Why this missions trip? Why serve to help build the Dorcas Center? Where is Bamako, Mali anyway? Seiku, age 7, brother Orlon, 5, and little sister Leah, 2 and a half, a whole generation-waiting. Beneath a humble shelter made of dried stalks, sharing a drink and one cookie each, we received an answer to our question, "Nay toe go?"

   You are never too old or too young to learn something new. Abi taught me how to undress and clean and re wrap wounds. I work in a hospital and I have seen a lot, but nothing prepared me for these wounds. We see pictures of bed sores gone wrong, but nothing prepared me for what I saw here. My first wound patient was a young woman with a huge gaping hole in her left leg. What started as a small cut from a slipped axe, turned into a five inch wide, 1 inch tall, and 3/4 inch thick infected hole in her leg. I almost lost my breakfast right then and there. She moaned as I tried to delicately clean the infected area. We gave her some Tylenol for the pain, but you could see that she was still very uncomfortable. Abi and I managed to clean her wound, apply a new dressing, and wrap it back up. We gave her antibiotics to fight the infection, and prayed over her before she left the clinic. She will return next week to have her dressings changed.

    Africa is an amazing place. God is moving here, you can feel it.