Lessons from Temda's story
Today is sabbath and I just got back from taking a walk by myself to try and get myself together again after another busy week. I walk up to my door and find a woman there that I had sent to the hospital with her sick granddaughter. When she came to me a few days ago I didn't even recognize the little girl, Temda, that I had taken care of for the past 1 1/2 years. She was one of my first baby milk babies. She is special to me because of that and because she got excited to see me every time they came to visit. She is different, other children sometimes cry at the sight of a "Nasara".
About three days ago I saw Temda and knew she was in trouble. Her eyes were sunken into her face as she was on her grandmothers back her head flopped back as far as it could go as though there was no life in her. The flies were just swarming her little face. I was horrified at the sight of her and I went through emotions like anger at the grandmother for waiting this long to bring her to the hospital. I started to cry because I knew it was going to take maybe more than the hospital has to offer to keep her alive.
The IV was hooked up and attempts at keeping her alive are going on as they do for all the little ones with malaria. This time there was not much response. A day later the grandmother gets sick too and she too is hooked up to IV for malaria. I come by with food to be sure that someone was taking care of them. I get there to see about 5 people there for her so I have some peace of mind knowing she will be ok. But as I left something told me I need to take the little girl Temda. She needs more than what she is getting. But I didn't listen.
The next morning I send Naomi over to check on them and I send her with bwee, which is like a breakfast rice porridge. Naomi comes back in tears. She can't believe that this is Temda.
Saturday I thought the grandmother was coming to me to tell me that they were hungry but instead she was coming to tell me that Temda was dead. What? I just didn't want to accept it . Why? This little one is special, why did she have to die? I go inside the house and begin to cry. I am trying to get myself together so I can figure out what there is to do next. I knew that I needed to help the grandmother. I go to my closet and pick out a blanket the someone made for new babies. But I take this one out to the grandmother and tell her that I want her to wrap Temda up in this from me. I walk to the hospital with her and help her wrap the lifeless baby up. I pick her up and give her my last hug as tears flow from my eyes. The nurse comes over to hold the baby for me. As we get the other things together for them to leave. I give the grandmother some money to take a motorcycle back home. And that was it.
But for me it doesn't just end there. I continue to go over things in my mind and to all others that would listen to me. Trying to process what I should have done different. Trying to make myself feel better by saying that she is probably better off this way because the life of girls here are just too hard. This way she can be raised in heaven. What a better place to be. But the bottom line is that this sinful world took another innocent life. She was a beautiful baby girl and I don't want her life to be just another baby that died. I want to remember her and learn from her death. Maybe I need to listen more to that small voice telling me to do something more even though it is incovenient for me. I don't ever want my laziness to get in the way of a life again. I don't know for sure if God was asking me to do more but in my heart I knew that I could of and then I wonder would that have made the difference? Would more of my efforts save her? I want to not just hear God's voice when He is asking me to do something but by this lesson I hope from now on I will act on what I hear and do something more than I am.
May we all need to listen more to what He is telling us and be doers of His work.
Love and prayers,
Tammy
