Lent: Day Five

The first day of our hygiene training classes, we had the group of women and children split into small groups and draw their neighborhood on big sheets of paper. As I walked around and observed the discussions and drawings, I was surprised by what I saw.

Every group put the well at the center of their drawing--even though it wasn't complete at that time. They had faith that we would find water, and they knew just how special that water would be. I was humbled by this trust and appreciation.

Even more surprising, though, was the rest of the drawing. Little girls drew bright, loopy flowers and fluttering butterflies. Little boys drew dogs and chickens happily running through the streets. Moms drew spacious square houses with triangle roofs and children looking out the window or playing in the yard.

I came to their community and saw dilapidated huts made with grass, cardboard, tin, and cinder block. The richest families in town had smelly, barely covered outhouses. I saw garbage heaps and dirty rivers. I knew the busy road that divided their neighborhood had killed children.

But they drew happy streets lined with flowers. They saw butterflies and delighted in their erratic flight. They drew homes, family, love.

And at the center: the well we would dig, the clean water that would bring them even better life.

It's all a matter of perspective, sometimes. I need to remember that.