Goodbyes are commonplace but grow more meaningful.
Our Canadians left at 6:00AM this morning. I had just entered the village after a morning walk. They were packing the last bags into the cars. We shared good byes and they gave me a small Canadian flag to post somewhere around the camp.
The Canadians have a thousand mile drive back to Windsor, Ontario - broken by a stop tonight in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. I believe this is the third group from their church this year, quite a commitment.
They left with some extra satisfying news.
When the crew with the police left our dear lady and her finished kitchen yesterday and revealed their identity she was a good sport about it.
Thankfully the fired waitress came back to work to pick up her check and called the number one of our staff left behind. We were able to meet her, get her name and point her towards possible help.
She had just moved to Gulfport when Katrina hit. The storm wiped out the house she was to move into. So really, she has been homeless since August 2005 (that is, living in a FEMA trailer with her two children). I’ll try to follow how her story unfolds.
Today, I’ll check out another house with a bad roof, try to finish a comparative estimate to convince an elderly lady that stripping and rebuilding her home is a better economical alternative than tearing it down and building a new one. In between, I'll probably drive to Pearlington to check in on the work for next week. I finally have made contact with another woman who is managing a family by herself and whose husband is disabled. Their partially de-roofed home, scalped by Katrina, has stood empty since. Tomorrow, respirator equipped, I will check it out including the mystery water-sodden attic. Who knows what grows there.
Keep our volunteers and mission workers in your prayers. They work hard. The emotional toll of the unflagging effort and the pathos of the people gradually build a burden upon them too heavy to carry alone.
Peace.
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