My Life as an African Gypsy

Like nearly every afternoon I furl my colorful capulana high in the air letting it come to rest upon the perfect patch of grass in my backyard, diaper bag hung across my shoulders - full of toys to appease the smallest, and that very small one balanced just so on my hip as I straighten the corners and holler a "Go away!" to the big stinky dog and "Just a minute!" to my oldest.

Somewhere nearby she sits, thin line coiled and resting next to her while her perfection of crotchet work lays delicately across her lap and her hook in hand continually weaving beauty. One of her two shawls, either the light pink or sky blue, will be draped around her neck, and while usually leaving one remaining length draped over her missing breast, around us it isn't so important, so it may be flailed to the back exposing her tumor, reminding me that my dear friend is not well.

Slowly as the weeks pass and we spend leisurely mornings and afternoons together and I learn more of her and of her story - the good and the bad. But isn't that all of us? Isn't that knowing someone.

She stands hunched over, gripping the tiny hand of my youngest teaching her how to walk, encouraging her efforts and excitingly giving praise to small victories. She sings 'Happy Birthday' to the older one so she won't be sad it isn't her birthday coming up and claps joyously at the end so she might feel the extra attention.

She sits on my couch discouraged she had to take her medication again and reminds me she's handed it to God and He can heal when He is ready - her faith never wavering. I sit across from her wondering if and when we should talk about death... again.

I convince myself it is nobility that wants her to go home and spend her last days with her family, while in all honesty it is probably more motivated by fear and dread of having to walk that road with her. I hope there is truly a mix of the two. I do hope she gets to teach her own grandchild that is due in a few weeks how to walk. Maybe I will be wrong. I would love for her to laugh her big laugh in my face and shag her finger at me how I didn't believe enough. I'd love that.

So glad that she and I have one thing in common - we know we serve a powerful God and we know He is ultimately in control.

And so we wait on Him.