On my recent trip to Mali, I would have to say that the thing which left the biggest impression on me was the people, our brothers and sisters in Christ. Two times stand out in my mind. Before we left Bamako to go to the bush in Boura, we formed a circle for prayer before boarding the vehicles for the trip. Even though the      songs and prayers were in a tongue foreign to me, both were earnest and reverent and my heart was so touched.  It made me think of what it will be like in Heaven some day.

Then when we worshiped with the believers in Boura on the Sunday, we were invited to pray with those wanting prayer for healing. Tears poured down my face and I felt so privileged to be part of that. They were so warm towards us, and a simple "God bless you" between us, in their language, seemed to be enough to express the love that united us in Christ. It was exciting to get the chance to use our medical skills in Mali, and to share the love they gave to us.

Janet Jewett
(PHOTO: Mrs Janet Jewett in triage area)

In our living in the Moslem village of Kabe, I was reminded of how dependent we are on each other.  For our water, there was a well nearby and we had pails to carry the water but we had no bucket to draw the water.  So late each afternoon, I would make my way to the well with a couple of pails (I didn't have to do this but knew we needed the water for our "showers" later and wanted to get the water while it was still light out).  But once I got to the well, I needed someone willing to pull up the water for me.  Usually there was a darling young girl (I thought of her as a little angel), about 10 or 11 years old, and she insisted on drawing the water for me.  She never would let me pull it - I think she was afraid I was either too old or that I might drop her rope.  So without any language between us, she was just so pleased to do this for me.

But, occasionally I would go to the well and there was no one there - so I would have to come back without the water.  Obviously we were dependent on someone to help us.

And, when one of us got sick, all the others sprang into action to do things to help the healing.   We so depended on each other.

It was easy to see that the whole village operated like that - we observed that everyone seemed to work and that they started very early in the morning.  About the same time as we heard the call to prayer, we would hear the pounding of the ladies (pounding the millet into powder).  And we would hear the men hitching up the donkeys to go somewhere.  Even the children had jobs.  In fact, they worked beyond what we thought was appropriate for their ages. 

But, we could learn much from them - they were all dependent on each other.  And, while we were there without much way to travel or communicate with the outside world, we, too, were dependent on each other.  And totally on God.  Not a bad place to be.

Thanks MMI for the opportunity to serve,

Naida Antworth

(Naida is the MMI Director Assistant)

I totally enjoyed my month in Mali.  Outside Bamako, many of the villages don't have medical care.  There were  wounds that won't heal and very ill patients with Malaria, mostly children.  On the second day of clinic, our designated IV treatment hut was full.  We had a clothesline, strung from wall to wall, which could safely hold 8 IV bags.  Most of the patients were under 5 years of age, acutely ill with the killer form of Malaria.  God watched over the patients and me.  He guided my hand, with each of these tiny children.  The IV angio would miraculously enter their tiny vein, day after day, successfully for 4 weeks.  I probably started over 100 IV's on sick, dehydrated babies, some weighing 5-8 kilo's.  One young child rode 25 kilometers on the back of a bicycle to the clinic, strapped to her father, too weak to hold herself on, returning two more days for treatment.  

One little girl named Louise, came in all alone. She was very weak, and dehydrated.  All day she lay on the floor mat, receiving her IV treatment. No parent came to look in on her.  At the end of the day, after all the other patients had left for home, I laid down next to her.  I wanted to somehow communicate to her that I cared.  In her eyes, I saw tears forming, and I put my hand on hers.  I took a beaded bracelet off my wrist and placed it on her arm, I know she understood that I cared for her.

Abi Dufour
(PHOTO:  Mrs Abi (Gail) Dufour giving Quinine treatment to a patient)