For some reason, there are faces I remember
and people I think of quite often
for months and years after returning home
from my trips around the world.
This little man is one of those 'remembering' ones.
He is the one from my post, "Hands." After having this man come to my mind so many
times, I asked my friend Raegan, with me here,
if she knew how to track down this photo.
~Thank you forever Raegan~
{An excerpt from "Hands" where I talk about meeting him. For complete post, click on
the highlighted "hands" above.}
Before we left I had the chance to work deep in the colony. Three others and I took our supplies and went to two people who couldn't make it out to us. The first little man. No words. We found him sitting on the cement floor with a cloth wrapped around him, no hands, swollen 'feet', and bones of knees and elbows practically visible beneath the paper thin leather skin of his failing body. Miserable. Just miserable living conditions. I just wonder who he used to be and what it has been like to see his body, his life, and his dignity as a human being just slowly crumble away from him. Sitting there. Just sitting there on a cement floor, in the depths of a maze like community as the flies come and feed on his sores. He doesn't even move. I don't know what to make of some of the trials people of this world are made to
suffer through in this life.
