The Missionary

Reblogging because this story by far surpasses all the BS expended on the US election and the money wasted. If anyone should be made president of that country, it would be the missionary woman, a small part of whose story is told here. How do you measure the worth of a human being? How do you decide what sort of person you would make your leader, i.e., you would emulate to the best of your ability?

Witticisms of a Polymath

I’m not a poet. I’ve only recently started reading poetry, and I’ve only written one poem so far. It still needs work. I wrote about a very dear friend. A short version of her story follows. To preserve privacy, I’ve changed names. I attached photos I took while visiting her in Kenya, but the photos are of people who are not involved with the story.

The Missionary: Poem

Frail body homes hollow birdie bones, conquered and malnourished

Schools crumbled, monies squandered, children lost, objectives never flourished.

Now daughter gone and husband’s betrayal, you return an unsmiling shell,

Depressed and weary, wary and done, and doubting that you served God well.

We once were so alike, our curly hair and curvy hips, on a mission to save the world of sinking ships.

And then you left, built a school, saved a baby, smiled bravely as your parents pursed their lips.

All…

View original post 879 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s