My dad was a Marine during WW2. He was stationed in San Diego and he, my mother, and my older brother (who was an infant at the time) shared a small apartment there.
The wife of one of the other marines was my mom’s friend. She had an infant son too. He had been born with serious curvature of the spine and the doctors had told the parents that the child would not survive.
The distraught mother took the baby to every military doctor up and down the West Coast trying to save his life (forgive me if I don’t know the details or protocols here; I am simply giving the story as my mother told it.) She used to carry the baby around in a basket with a small inner tube to protect his twisted back.
The doctors could do nothing and finally the child died. My mother and the other wives of Marines stationed there attended the funeral. The bereaved mother asked that they play a have titled “Have your own Way, Lord,” at the funeral. Some of the older ladies thought this was improper, but the mother had fought so hard to save her child, and had failed. It seems to have been a perfect choice to me. Resignation and acceptance.
All month I have been trying to save enough money from what has been so generously contributed here to provide a small Christmas dinner and celebration for the homeless children in Ghana. John wanted to give them each new clothes to replace their rags.
It has been a hard month there; four medical emergencies that were all life-threatening. John was sick again. We are trying to get a lady through a very difficult pregnancy. We cannot refuse to save a life when we are able to help.
And so it goes.
We are a week from Christmas. I just don’t see how I can give the homeless children their little day of happiness.
I am trying to be at the stage of resignation. Christmas is just one day, Hopefully someday soon we can get them off the street and they can live as normal children, happy, well-fed, and educated.
But not for Christmas.
No, I am not asking for money. I have no intention of abusing the kindness of the people here to do that again.
I am just sad.