"Just a little hospice in the bush"

I went to see my friend Hannah again today. She was yet again amazingly jolly. More than upbeat. Purely jolly, truly. When we asked how she was doing, she rubbed her face and said, "It's a little painful here..." but continued right ahead to praise God for her health.

I have so much to learn from my friend. It's so easy to grumble about silly, silly stuff. She doesn't.

She politely asked, though, if I'd bring her chicken livers once again. She'd like to have chicken livers for Christmas. I had to tell her that I'd be in South Africa for Christmas. (Since the children's party is tomorrow, I had changed my ticket so I can celebrate the day with my family.)

"Ah!" she exclaimed. "Salamia uko!" (Greet everyone there!)

I assured her I would do so, and that I'll be back. "Of course," she responded. "You're my child."

There were three nurses with me, and as we walked back to the car, one commented that this is "just a little hospice in the bush."

I wish--no, I pray, truly--that this would no longer be hospice care when I return, that God would indeed perform a miracle and heal Hannah.

That would be the greatest Christmas gift ever! Imagine...