Women of Courage, page 24
‘No, my time in Kenya is over.’ He went quiet, looking into his glass. ‘I have seen horrors which I wish to forget. I’ll not forget them so long as I am here.’ He looked up at her and gave a cheeky grin. ‘I have found a position in a small practice in Hampshire, I am truly looking forward to having nothing more to deal with than broken bones from bike falls and a few complaints of gall-stones. Bring on the quiet life!’
Grace smiled back at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘This is my home, I’m not leaving.’
Christopher reached across the table and grabbed her hand. ‘Why not? You’re living in a tiny room in a hospital surrounded by strangers. Leave it, Grace. Come and start a new life with me in England.’
Grace pulled back her hand and studied his face for a moment. ‘This is where God wants me, I know this as well as I know the lines on my hands. This is home, this is where I am needed.’
‘Grace if you married me you could have so much more. I’m quite well off you know, I own property as well as having a well-paid job. I could surround you in comfort for the rest of your life. Don’t sacrifice your last years here, let me love you and take care of you.’
‘I have given my life to God, to serve Him and the people of Mombasa.’
‘Then He asks too much of you, Grace. You have given years already, please come home with me.’
‘You don’t understand. He has given me so much more than I have given Him. What have I given up? Things that are temporal and pass by, clothes, money, fancy foods,’ Grace spread her hand over their empty plates. ‘He has given me so much more. I can’t begin to explain the joy that floods my body each time someone new gives their life to Christ. And peace, such peace, in knowing I am in the right place doing the right thing. I know where I am going when I leave Mombasa, and it’s not to England.’
‘You mean Heaven.’
‘I do. I know that’s where I am going as clearly as I know I am sitting at this table with you.’
‘He wouldn’t stop you going to Heaven just because you married me Grace.’
‘No, he wouldn’t. But I’m sorry, Chris, I am not going to marry you, nor go back to England.’
‘Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t, that’s why it has taken me years to come and see you. But I just couldn’t leave the country without trying once. You see, you turned and looked at me one day, with those beautiful sparkly eyes of yours, and in that moment you melted my heart.’
Grace didn’t know what else to say. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Goodness, there is nothing to be sorry about, it was hardly your fault. I’m awfully glad I came to see you though. Knowing that you are happy and content with your life will enable me to move on.’
Unexpected Blessings
February 1993
Grace did her morning rounds with unusual slowness. She felt weary and drained and every bit her age of eighty-one. Her eyes still smiled at people and her love poured from her in her prayers with patients who wanted them, but as she made her way back to her room, her heart felt heavy.
Sitting at her desk, she picked up the tiny white envelope with the Kenyan stamp and scraggly handwriting and with uncertainty etched on her face took the letter out. She had read it and put it back in the envelope a hundred times since it arrived three days ago but she was still unsure how she felt. She read it again.
My Dearest Grace,
We have space for you here at the convent.
Let us take care of you and come and be with us.
We will send you a train ticket as soon as you are ready.
I am full of joy at the thought of seeing you again.
Your sister in Christ
Mary-Beth
Folding the paper carefully, she slid it back into the envelope and then dropped her head to pray.
‘Father-God please have mercy on me and hear my prayers. I hope that I have served you well these last few years, but I am tired in my bones and in my spirit and long to rest in the cool airs north of Nairobi. Yet I am forlorn that I should be leaving here too soon. Lord I ask Thee, please give me a sign that I am no longer needed here and that your work will carry on when I am gone. Let your blessing be upon the people who need you, show them your love and give them your word so that they may know you for themselves. This I ask in the precious name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.’
Slowly lifting her head out of prayer, Grace looked up and got a shock when she saw a young woman standing in the doorway.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked, her surprise making her voice a bit sharp.
‘I am looking for someone called Grace,’ the woman replied.
Grace stood up. ‘Well then you have found her, how can I help you?’
The young English woman hesitated in the doorway for just a moment before stepping into the office.
‘I don’t really have anything to offer, but I feel compelled to come and ask you if there is anything I can do for you.’
Grace looked at the woman with a slight smile. ‘Take a seat, and tell me why you feel like that.’
After they had sat down at the desk, Grace waited for the woman to speak.
‘My name is Tracy, and I live just north of Mombasa with my husband and four young boys. I am very sad that I only heard about you yesterday, for my husband has been sacked and we are waiting for our plane tickets so that we can return to the UK, therefore I don’t have any time to give you.’ The woman paused and looked Grace directly in her eyes before carrying on.
‘All our savings were in the Trade Bank of Kenya, which you probably know closed on 15th April due to the bank manager running away with all the money. I therefore don’t have any money to give you. In fact, we are only managing ourselves because our friends are bringing us food.’ The young woman looked at Grace with the love of God written all over her face.
‘Still, without time or money to offer you, I felt the need to come and ask – is there anything I can do for you?’
Grace was having an internal discussion with God.
Oh, but you do have a sense of humour, don’t you? I ask for help and here you send me a woman, who seems pleasant enough, but nevertheless has nothing to offer. Really? Grace felt the Lord reply, Nothing? And in that moment into Grace’s mind came the picture of letters in her A3 folder. She looked at the woman, who sat patiently waiting for an answer, then got up and went across the room to the other desk. She rummaged around the papers for a while until she found her writing folder. She picked it up and went back to the desk where she sat down once more.
‘We ran out of Bibles nearly seven years ago. I have written numerous letters to different organisations, but no one is responding any more. If you could write some letters for us, telling them of our need for Bibles and trackers, in both English and Swahili, then that would be helpful.’
Tracy reached out and accepted the folder. ‘I can certainly do that for you,’ she answered. ‘I have to get back to the boys now, but I will bring back your folder before we leave Mombasa.’
‘Thank you.’
Grace watched the young English woman walk away and instantly knew that something had happened.
‘Have you answered my prayers already?’ she asked. A sudden burst of joy filled her spirit. In that moment, she didn’t understand why or how but she knew that God was happy for her to retire. She started sorting through huge piles of papers, something she had been meaning to do, for, well years.
‘Give me joy in my heart, keep me praising. Give me joy in my heart, I pray. Give me joy in my heart, keep me praising. Keep me praising till the break of day.’
‘Sing hosanna, sing hosanna, sing hosanna to the King of Kings.’
Grace turned around and smiled at Oborneo who was singing in the doorway. ‘It’s a good day, Oborneo.’
‘It is indeed. But is there a particular reason why today is so good?’
‘I am reminded that God knows what we need even before we ask, and my heart is full of joy.’
‘Praise be to God.’
‘Praise be to God.’
The two of them spent the afternoon singing and working and it came as a shock when the light began to dim and they knew 6 pm had arrived.
‘Come and join us for dinner, Grace?’ Oborneo asked getting ready to leave.
‘Not today, but thank you. I will come soon though.’
‘Okay, Grace. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Oborneo.’
That night as Grace did her rounds to pray with the patients, joy seeped from her spirit and touched those who listened to her words, poured out to the Father in love. No one jumped out of bed, miraculously healed, but everyone’s pain seemed to fade and they slept with the peace of babes.
Not sure what was coming, Grace found herself fidgety for the next few days, and every time she heard steps she looked up eagerly to see who was coming. When nothing seemed to be happening, her joy faded a little. Maybe she had been wrong about the woman?
Twenty days later, Grace was resigned to the fact that her own longing for rest had made her believe God was talking to her, yet although she had got it wrong she knew she was too tired to go on.
‘I am going to accept their offer,’ Grace declared.
Oborneo took his glasses off and put them on the table. ‘I’m glad. We will all miss you, but it is time for you to live the last part of your life.’
‘I live here.’
‘No Grace, you used to live here, now you just work here. Until a few weeks ago – when it briefly reappeared, the joy from your eyes had been gone and I see your exhaustion. It is time for you to start a new life.’
There was no arguing with the man who knew her, almost as well as God.
‘You’ll write and tell me all that is happening?’
‘Yes, I will write.’
‘Then I shall answer Mary-Beth’s letter today and ask her to send me a train ticket when she feels the time is right.’
‘Good, write it now and I will post it for you on the way home.’
‘You have a stamp?’
‘No, but Mary Umbungo is working at the Post Office today, and I’m sure she will give me a stamp.’
‘How is Mary? And how is that niece of hers?’
‘Both Mary and her niece are fine. Rose’s employers are leaving Mombasa but they have found her another job with a missionary family, so she will be okay.’
‘Mary must be relieved, I’m glad.’
When Oborneo left, taking the quickly written letter, Grace decided to go to her tree. She walked across the cool yard and sat down on the tiny bench under the palm tree. She had taken her mother’s Bible with her and having a moment of fancy, she closed her eyes and opened the Bible at random.
As her eyes fell across the words written on the page open in front of her, a tender sweet joy filled her and tears started to flow.
For I was hungry, and you fed me: I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink: I was a stranger, and you invited me in.
This verse had repeatedly been given to Grace, over the last forty years, by different people and in various ways. It had become part of her strength and lay like a shield around her spirit, protecting her from doubt and weariness.
‘I love you Father-God, I love you. I pour my heart out to you and thank you for your mercies, which are new every morning. Thank you for your unending patience and for the guidance of your Holy Spirit. I would not be here now without you, Father, and I leave with a heavy heart. All I ask is that you continue to bless Oborneo and others so that your word may bear fruit.’
Grace slept peacefully that night, trusting in a Father who she knew had never let her down before, and would not fail to answer her prayers of today, in His time and according to His good will.
Friday started off like any other day. She stood in the kitchens and argued for half an hour with the chef over the hygiene of the pots, then she had taken her Bible and done her rounds of the wards. Little Gasira was actually eating when she came to her bedside, and Grace smiled at the tiny girl with thankfulness in her heart. Her mother, Kioni, sprang to her feet as Grace approached.
‘She’s strong,’ she said, grinning widely.
‘She is indeed, very strong. Did you manage to get some honey?’
‘Yes, Mrs.-Grace. I got honey from the baker, he said I can work for him when Gasira is better, to pay him back.’
‘That’s good, and who knows, if you work hard he might keep you on and pay you?’ Kioni burst into a grin, her big brown eyes full of joy.
‘Grace, Grace?’ Grace looked up in surprise as Oborneo came rushing into the ward. ‘There you are, quick, come see. You’re not going to believe it.’
‘I’ll come back later,’ she said to Kioni.
As soon as she reached the doorway Oborneo grabbed her arm and practically dragged her along the hallway.
‘Oborneo, you’re worrying me. What on earth has happened?’
‘You’ll see,’ said Oborneo, not letting go of her arm or slowing the pace.
As they rounded the doorway and came into her rooms Grace was met by boxes. Loads of boxes. Big and small, littered all over the office floor and on every surface.
‘What is it?’ she asked in a hushed voice.
‘Bibles,’ declared Oborneo. ‘Hundreds of Bibles!’
They spent the next hour cutting open all the boxes, which revealed Bibles in both English and Swahili, and a mountain of trackers to hand out. They sorted the boxes into a bit of an order and managed to clear some floor space by piling them on top of each other. They had only just finished when Tracy turned up.
‘Hello,’ she said from the doorway. ‘We’ve got our flight tickets and leave next week so I wanted to bring these back to you.’
Both Grace and Oborneo just stood and looked at her for a full minute.
Eventually, Grace asked, ‘Who are you?’
A bit surprised, Tracy answered, ‘I’m just a mother and a housewife.’
Grace came to her quickly and took her by the elbow. ‘Look,’ she said pointing to all the boxes.
Tracy just looked puzzled.
‘It’s Bibles,’ said Grace, hardly able to contain her excitement. ‘What on earth did you write in those letters?’
After the initial excitement, the two women sat down at the desk and dived into conversation. Grace briefly explained when and how she had arrived in Mombasa and why she had stayed, and Tracy told a bit of her own story about how she had become a Christian three years previously.
‘I just prayed before I wrote,’ she explained. ‘Then when I was posting each letter I asked God to take them on the wings of His angels and deliver them quickly and safely to the person in each organisation who made the decision. Also, that as soon as the letters arrived on their desks, their decision to send Bibles would be swift and they would come under God’s protection.’
‘It only took twenty-one days for them to arrive; do you know that is a miracle in and of itself? Normally, Bibles are shipped to us by sea and take three months, everyone who has sent us Bibles and trackers this time have all sent them by air. And there are so many in Swahili, which is such a blessing. But probably the most amazing thing is that we didn’t have to pay any chi (bribe) money to get them out of customs.’
‘God is good,’ answered Tracy.
‘He is indeed, and I would be interested to follow your walk in Christ.’
‘I am sure it won’t be a tiny bit as wonderful as yours,’ Tracy answered slightly embarrassed.
‘Everyone’s walk is wonderful, if only they would open their eyes and see.’ They talked for about an hour until Tracy had to leave. Before she left, she showed Grace a picture of her sons that she always carried with her.
‘These are my joy,’ she said showing the picture.
‘I am sure they will be a blessing to you,’ replied Grace.
Oborneo and Grace walked Tracy to the hospital door.
‘I wish for you a happy retirement in the convent,’ said Tracy.
‘And I will pray that your steps are ever on God’s path,’ replied Grace.
They watched Tracy drive away in her white Beetle and then returned to their treasure that had just arrived on the wings of Angels.
Until We Meet Again
May 1995
One small suitcase, battered and tied with string, stood next to her on the floor as Grace took one last look at the room, which had been ‘home’ for the last thirty-seven out of forty-two years that she had been on the island. She was surprised she didn’t feel emotional but put it down to the fact that she was eighty-three and just downright tired.
‘Ready, Mrs.-God?’ Oborneo asked quietly. Grace nodded and Oborneo bent down and picked up the suitcase. She followed him down the corridor and a sudden lump came to her throat as she realised this would be the last time she walked along this cool pathway. Oborneo led her through to the main entrance of the hospital and Grace took a deep breath when she saw that all the staff had come to wave her off.
Nurses, doctors, cooks, cleaners and even patients either shook her hand or hugged her tight.
‘Bless you,’ she repeated over and over again.
Oborneo pulled open the taxi door and the driver put the case in the boot. As the car pulled away from the hospital, Grace turned around in the seat and waved to everyone through the window until they rounded a corner and the hospital was out of sight. She slowly turned around and for a moment felt lost, feeling as if her purpose for living was fading behind her.
‘Grace?’
She looked up at Oborneo who was unashamedly crying.
‘Don’t cry, we’ll meet again in Heaven.’
‘I have something for you,’ said Oborneo and opened his hand to reveal a little gold ring with a tiny sapphire. Grace began to shake, her chin wobbled and then tears streamed down her cheeks.
‘Where on earth did you find it?’ Grace asked picking up William’s ring with trembling hands.
‘Do you remember, Aluoch from the street gang?’
‘The man whose son was bitten by a snake?’
