from Barb's Journal

Tuesday, May 23, 1995

The gift of thirty brown eggs touched me. They filled the black plastic bag, making it bulge. The wrapping was certainly plain and ordinary. We accepted the gift as graciously as we could.

It came from the family sitting in my living room, a pastor, his wife, and little girl. They had come to Evangel Hospital for yet another chemotherapy treatment for Grace, the girl. It is treatment they can't afford, paid for by our friends abroad. Mike bought the medicines for them and has stored them in our refrigerator.

The family has obviously given the eggs in deeply-felt appreciation. They cost about two dollars, but represent two or three days wages for a Nigerian. They represent protein that is badly needed in the diet of most Nigerian children. They represent a luxury that many cannot afford.

Grace has cancer in her legs. She walked into my house, slowly and painfully. Her father told me that some months ago she could do nothing more than lie in a bed. He had witnessed enormous improvement in Grace's condition and he was grateful to God and to Mike.

I don't really need this gift of thirty brown eggs. I will use some and the rest I will give to someone more needy than I, like Jummai or Justina, both with toddler sons who need the protein.

May 26, 1996

Grace died. We encountered her parents one day in September at the hospital gate as we entered the compound, and they told us the news. There was no trace of bitterness or anger as they described her final days of struggle against cancer. They have entrusted her to God for safekeeping. I was so impressed.