smashing and blotting

Africa has not changed the fact that I randomly decide to do tasks that require far more time than I have available. Today I was walking by the flower bed and suddenly called all the kids to come move the rocks (so that I could straiten the edge). They love doing that on a daily basis to my disdain so it was a joy for them and they had it done in approximately two seconds. So I proceeded to clear out all the leaves and plant the zinnia seeds that my really thoughtful mother sent me. I used the dirty laundry water to water the sections as I finished. There is one boulder of a rock at the end by our concrete compound wall. That observation should have ended there-but no. I NEEDED to move it. Just slightly to the right. When I did, I smashed my finger so hard. At this point Andrew, Isatu, Levi and Ivey had gone on an errand so John and Albert were left to wonder what in the world this strange jumping and flailing was about. I shook the hand to the left, down low, up high, and all around. I yelled ow about 100 times and almost cried. I was absolutely fine actually but no good injury should go without a production right?
So after a while Albert was up in a tree looking over the compound wall and I heard him calling to a boy who lives near us. It is actually the same boy that the post that Andrew recently wrote titled 'Schooled by a school boy' was about. I asked Albert who he was talking to and he told me it was Morlai and then said he had fallen down and was crying. I went out the gate to go see what happened and Albert called to him telling him to go to the gate door. I was expecting a scraped knee or elbow but as he rounded the corner I was surprised by the blood all over his face running down off his chin. I had him come inside the compound and wash it off at the outside water tap while I ran in to get some paper towels. After we got all the blood off his face and I could see that it was only about an inch long but was pretty deep. And he had a large knot all around it. Apparently he had been playing soccer and fell trying to get the ball. So knowing he probably could use a stitch or two I did the next best thing and got the peroxide, band aids and neosporin out just like my mom taught me. I am quite the nurse and it only took three band aids to get the small scrape on his knee and 30 minutes to cover his eye with some gauze and tape. You should know that it is a small miracle that I was able to do this because I am the queasy type and especially don't like cuts. It would have really been a terrible day for the poor kid if I had have vomited on him too. Andrew even had time to get home from his errand and I told him what happened. Albert told me he cried when it happened but that boy did not shed a tear or even flinch when I was blotting the peroxide and putting that bandage on. He looks really strong but I was impressed with how tough he was when I know it had to hurt pretty bad. I thought he was probably going to have a headache after such a hit so I gave him some Tylenol and then a little package of some more for later.
Now-you might wonder why I am telling all of this. Because, I just have to say that I find it so interesting how things work out sometimes. To back the story up a little bit I had actually seen Morlai earlier in the day when I was talking to someone else outside the compound door. As he walked by he greeted me in his usual soft spoken way and as he passed I noticed that his hair is turning a little orange at the temple. That is not a good sign. It usually is a sign of mal-nourishment. I took note of it, told Andrew, and prayed that God would give us an opportunity to check that out a little closer and that we would know what we should do for him. I don't want to imply that I think God pushed Morlai down when he was playing soccer but I love that when that happened he came to us. Well, I should clarify and say that I am glad we had the opportunity that I prayed for. I could not have had a more prime spot for checking out his temple and this presented a perfect opportunity to feed him. It burdens me that he had to go to a neighbor that he barely knows when an accident happened. I wish for him that his own mother could have bandaged him up and that his own father could have told him what a cool scar that was going to leave. I asked if he had eaten that day and he said no so I told him that he was going to need to eat with us because if he didn't the medicine would hurt his stomach. That is kind of true, right? So he did and he was so quiet. He is very polite and would answer any time we asked him questions but mostly he just looked around at all of us and smiled. And I decided I love him. And. I decided that I am a serious weenie flailing around about a finger when this kid was so stoic about his slashed eyebrow. I have a feeling that I know one of the vessels that God will be using to be teaching all of us some lessons.
He showed up at the gate to get his bandage redone the next day just like I told him. Two times now actually. And it looks much better so I know my mom will be assured that her surefire miracle working magical ointment 'Neosporin' did the trick. He was playing soccer with Albert today so he is obviously not going to let a little injury stand in the way of the game. Please pray for him anyway. He does have some relatives that give him some kind of care but he could obviously benefit from school which he does not attend right now. Currently he sells biscuits (i.e. cookies) out on Lumley during the day.