Annie's starting her journey home

   I'm having a bit of trouble getting to sleep tonight. The reason is that Annie left the ship today. And even though there about four hundred people onboard, it already seems a little bit lonely without her.

Annie with the other VVF patients at their Dress Ceremony

    For the past few weeks, I have visited her every day bar one and sometimes twice a day on weekends. I held her hand when she cried tears of frustration and anxiety even though I could not understand what she was saying. We laughed over my poor French and as she tried to teach me some Lingala as well. We walked the hospital corridors and sang together.  We sat together at hospital ward service. We played countless games of Uno on Mark's Ben 10 cards, which have left with her. We made each other friendship bracelets and I plan to wear mine until it falls apart because I know it was made with such love.

    I've tried to figure out what made our time together special. What made me come away from each visit glowing on the inside. And I think it is best summed up by Mother Theresa:

"You can give without loving, but you cannot love without giving."

Annie telling her story at the Dress Ceremony

All I gave was my time but it showed love. Annie's face lit up every time I visited her and I know it was a mirror of my own. We spoke through an interpreter today in her last minutes on the ward and she told me how much she appreciated my visits and my family saying hello as well. She was so articulate about her feelings and I couldn't even put into words how blessed I have felt to walk beside her as she healed. I felt so accepted into her community even without any language. She told me that even though there is no phone in her village to keep in contact with me, she will never forget me, that she will pray for me and my family and that she loves me.

    I am finding it difficult to express how happy I am for Annie that she is starting her journey home; even though her leaving makes me sad. I understand that she lives beyond Impfondo and that she was one of a group of women that took canoes over three days down the river and then flights to get to the ship. I can't even imagine the courage it must have taken to begin that trip. I can't even comprehend what Annie must think about our ship and how different it is from her village. The main thing I think about though, is how absolutely fantastic it is going to be when she finally goes home to her husband - whole again.

As she walked down the gangway for the final time today in a new dress, I wished I could have captured the moment. She's spent almost a month in a hospital gown and she looked so bright and happy - like a new woman. In some respects she is.

    Annie will be at the Hope Center for outpatients for a few days yet. She has her final check up on Monday morning at 0800. It will be my last chance to say goodbye and "Bon courage mon ami. Je prier pour toi. Au revoir." I know it is unlikely that we will ever cross paths again but I am thankful that we had this time together - it has changed my thoughts on friendship and love forever. Please continue to pray for my beloved friend, Annie.