A Christmas Miracle

It is always hectic around Christmas time, no need to remind anyone of that. I have a remarkably weird mailman even by today’s standards. He rings my bell incessantly sometimes even though he knows the door is open and then other times he just doesn’t deliver at all. He takes pleasure in hiding important bills and letters in the junk mail though I have asked him not to. It’s always dicey at Christmas.

It was the day before I left for the Motherland. In my business where I actually earn money, this is a difficult time for people. I am borrowing from another person in calling them the Hellidays, but alas for many, family, lousy economy, traveling, breakups, failed marriages ad in finitum fill my time before I leave. I was seeing someone with a particularly difficult situation when the bell rings at my door. And it rings and rings and rings. I try not to answer but John (the mailman) is insistent and since he’s always quite close to the edge I figured he was having a worse meltdown than what was happening in my office. Grudgingly I got up, apologized to the client and went to the door.

Low and behold he hands me two brown packets from Kenya. Since one can neither register, insure, nor have delivery confirmation on anything to and from Kenya, I did not see the urgency in my answering the door; John did. He wanted to be sure I got them and advised me to be careful since there were terrorists over there.
I returned to my patient client (and by that I mean she’s really patient to tolerate such an interruption) and we found a way to succeed for her on Christmas. I then turned my attention to the packets. Could it be??? Could the schools really have sent me their reports on time? Well yes and no.

Malanga, the flagship and Manyole, the one on probation indeed sent me most of their reports in orderly fashion, and Mabunge who I decided to cut loose only sent a letter asking to be reinstated and no reports. My assessment of the schools was correct, but the miracle is that I got the reports on time and that we are back to feeding several hundred children despite the dismal economy here and in Nambale.

It’s New Year’s Eve. My grandson is sound asleep upstairs. The city is quietly blanketed with fluffy white stuff and I; I’m quietly optimistic about the New Year. I know we elected the right man for the job and I know we are doing the right thing in Nambale; I even think by next year we shall be able to add a new school or a new village. I’m not unhappy about 2008; we needed every minute to get to now. And that my friends is a true Christmas Miracle.