The boy

Here he is! Helen and the un-named handsome boy!

I'm glad I didn't ask to hold him (this was his wife's first time to meet me - I didn't want to scare her), because when Patrick took him, he started crying immediately, and he didn't stop until she took him back after this picture.

This is Patrick's family with three of his four children. The other one was screaming about being in the picture. I tried to get them to stand in front of their house or a tree, but Patrick insisted on being in front of our vehicle.

It reminds me of two weeks ago.

I went out to the village with a friend to "drive" another friend's cassava harvest back to town. (You can see the bags the other men are loading on top). I had my camera, and this gentleman and I exchanged a few words in Lugbara, but I knew what he was asking without understanding all of it. He wanted his picture made with my friend's vehicle.


Anyway, back to Patrick's house. These boys were having so much fun. I would take a picture, show it to them, they would laugh, and then make sillier poses the next time. I had a lot of fun with them.

Of course, the girls were being responsible and sitting off to the side, taking care of the younger kids.

Aren't they beautiful?

The funny thing is, I couldn't get them to smile (with teeth) for ANY picture, but EVERY time after the flash went off, they had huge smiles, waiting to see their picture in my camera.

Then, the boys thought I was giving too much attention to the girls, so they moved over nearer to me at a neighboring house and wanted me to take more pictures.

And the boys were the ones that followed us, running down the path, as we drove back home.

I made copies of all these photos for the boys so they would always remember the day the crazy white lady came to take their picture.

Now for two small tidbits about the day.

A friend told me that they would ask me to name the baby, but I assured her that I had never met Patrick's family, and they certainly wouldn't ask a stranger to name their child. She said, "It will be only one of many names he gets, but it's very important to be able to tell him later that that name was given to him by an American."

I gave it just a thought and went about my day.

Sure enough. Not two minutes had passed after I sat in their house when his wife asked me to give him a name.

What do you do when that happens?

Go with the familiar...

"Michael" (that's my dad's name and my brother's name, for those of you who don't know, and it's the first that popped into my head)

Patrick smiled and said, "That is my father's name."

Cool, huh?

Tidbit #2:

We had to DRIVE in a CAR quite a ways out into the bush to get to Patrick's house. The WHOLE way I couldn't stop thinking that Patrick RIDES his BIKE to my house from here. Wow!

AND...do you remember how I said the original plan for the birth was for him to give his wife a ride to the hospital on his bike when she went into labor?

I wish I could show you how far they live from the hospital!! I thought about that ride to the hospital (that didn't happen) all the way home as I felt every bump, also realizing that they would have made that journey in the dark. I guess Helen should thank me that she got to deliver at home, right?

All in all, it took us about 15 minutes driving really slowly on bumpy roads, but you can get pretty far in 15 minutes in a car.

After leaving his home, I looked at my phone, and I was being serviced by another cell phone provider that I had never heard of before. Maybe it was one from the Congo (which is next door) - I don't know, but all of a sudden, I got a text.

It was from my old (original) provider which said, "MTN Uganda wishes you a save and pleasant stay overseas."

Obviously, my phone company thought I was past the limits of civilization as well.

THAT, my friends, is a long way to ride on a bike to work in rain, dark, heat, or cold!

Pray for Patrick and Jeremiah and their families. Pray for their safety and their continued health. They work hard to keep our family safe.