African Memories

Before I get into the thoughts I want to share today, I just have to acknowledge the overwhelming tragedy that has taken place on the Gulf Coast.  Right now, we are in Cotonou, Benin.  I went into a supermarket yesterday and CNN was playing on TV and I saw my first video from the area.  I was moved, almost to the point of tears.   Our prayers are with all those who have to rebuild their lives after this disaster, and with all those trying to help in managing the crisis.  We’ve heard that the friends we had in the area are safe, and for that we are very thankful.

I lived in Benin for eight years before our move to Togo.  Cotonou is the capital city, about two hours away from where we lived.  We would come here once a month or so for shopping, banking, and a little get-away time.  Yesterday, Maureen and I reappeared in the downtown shopping area for probably the first time in four years.  We were immediately greeted with welcoming voices saying, “It’s been a long time,” as the same vegetable sellers and even parking guards from four years ago and more are still there.  I walked into a butcher shop and the lady working there immediately exclaimed, “Papa Jeremy!”

Now I wish that I could say that their memory of me was somehow based on a special relationship I had with them or some impact I had on their lives.  The truth is, if I was shopping there, I was always in a hurry to get out.  It’s no fun to have people pulling at you, calling to you, buy this, buy that.  But yesterday’s experience helped me to see these people for who they are – people, who live and work and try to squeeze out an existence from very meager resources, whose greatest resource is the relationships they have with the people around them and who even value their relationships with arrogant foreigners who sometimes only tolerate them.  I pray for forgiveness from such arrogance, and that I will learn to value my relationships with “the least of these, my brethren.”