Angel
wings
It is how missionaries should be:
plain skirt, stout, serviceable shoes,
unmade-up face, in preparation
for outlying villagers who come to see her.
She built this village-hospital, her faith,
her busy will-power, plus some assistance
from the local headman, a little money
from the region's government. She's
matron-GP-surgeon-bottle-washer, when
the water's running, which isn't always.
She found money for a generator,
learned to start it, leave on stand-by
and there's no time to tire or sicken
(her or the generator).
Take today: ward-round after round,
talk on HIV, clinic for expectant mums,
fifty of them. Rain sheets down outside
and she's still busy but her ministering
angel wings remain unruffled.
Ben, poor little beggar, has yaws
-she'll do what she can-Kofi, malaria,
Celestina's fistula needs immediate attention.
>
From Him above? They need His succour,
right enough, she thinks, glancing
at 'Indications' and 'How many daily'.
(Previously published by Famous Reporter)
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