Normal 0 false false false EN-GB X-NONE X-NONE MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";} Michael and Jessica Green, are an English couple currently completing a multi-generational Discipleship Training School in Kona, Hawaii with their two small sons. The DTS is currently in their outreach phase on the island of Samoa and Michael's wife, Jessica, sends this glimpse into their lives. For more "Postcards" search the article archives. - Editor

The day started badly. Iopened my eyes to see a cockroach crawling up the inside of our mosquito net. The process of dealing with it woke the boys to discover they had bothwet their beds. While stripping the beds and trying to find fresh sheets Ifound that some of our clothes were growing white and black mould from theconstant damp due to the rain. Needless to say by 8 in the morning I wasbusying myself with trying to leave for the day with two irritable boys, anexasperated husband and tears streaming down my face.

I know many of you will understand about the horror of the cockroach and mouldbut you might be wondering why the wet beds were such an issue: surely that isa normal part of motherhood? Yes it is, but when you add in thateverything has to be hand washed and it’s raining outside and so you can’t getanything dry, mouldy clothes and wet sheets pose a time consuming problem (especiallyas I had spent 2 ½ hours and a small fortune at the launderette the daybefore).

Anyway I was bundled onto the bus and, with little grace, was propelled towardthe school we were visiting that day. We arrived to find the childrendoing their exercises on a grassy area in front of the classrooms. Everything about this school was different from the others we hadvisited. It was clean, welcoming and well kept…and the children weredelightful. Each one with a unique smile and, initially, a bashful manner.Only 18 in number, our 30 far outweighed them, but gave us plentifulopportunity to exchange smiles, hold hands, paint faces, sing songs, wherepossible converse in broken English, play games and in some cases pray. And these children represented a group who are in need of prayer.

This school is indeed like no other in Samoa. It is the only school inthe country that caters for children with mental disabilities. It is anon-profit organization, charging only 20 Tala (approximately 6.00 US$) per academicyear. Like all non-profits it struggles to meet the bills, especially teacherssalaries, but it has one problem that is bigger - the difficulty in attractingteachers and students. In a culture that places such low value, and suchhigh shame, on the mentally disabled, it is a hard sell. One teacher inparticular knows of two children in her village alone who would benefit hugelyfrom the school, but for the shame of being seen in public the families won’tbring them. We might shake our heads and “Tut tut” at the injustice, butwe have no idea what it is to live in a culture where most still live off theland and every able hand is put to work. Any spare cash is spent on the childmost likely to improve the families prospects, not the one least likely to makea contribution.

However, these children do have so much to add - the joy that they bring, thedelight in singing and dancing, the courage that many of them display in justhaving to face the world each day with good cheer. These ones were notcontent for us to entertain them, they wanted to give as good as they got. For every song and dance we produced, they produced two, singing withtuneless gusto and awkward gestures, but straight from the heart. Apriceless moment was after some of their boys had performed the Samoan Haka(similar to the All Blacks pre-rugby ritual) our boys responded in kind (wehave had several Maori on school and the Haka has been a trade markperformance). As they roared their chant and stamped their feet, two boys with Downs Syndrome started squaring up to our men - looking for all their might likemighty Samoan warriors. In all honesty I would not have liked to meetthem on a dark night. It was so wonderful to see these boys being “real men”:expressing that inbuilt desire to defend and releasing that masculine war cryagainst an “enemy”.

Another precious moment was praying for a small boy who was unable to walk oreven sit up un-aided. I assume he also had some kind of developmental disability, or perhaps the tender-hearted head teacher, Sharon, took him inbecause of his great need. No one knows what is wrong with him, but untilrecently he wasn’t able to even sit. Patient physiotherapy and much loveadministered by the school have yielded great results, but Sharon informed uswith tears in her eyes that his family were leaving the next morning to go andlive on a neighboring island, where she feared there would be no support forhim. Without it, she was sure he would slide back to his formercondition, or perhaps worse, the family too pressed to attend to his greatneed. The tears she shed as we prayed for his healing andprotection were evidence of her deep love for these broken ones.

So what of my mounting laundry pile when we returned home? Well to behonest, it simply didn’t seem so big. My ever-loving husband took thesheets and the children “helped” me as I sat by our outside tap and used theirbathing tub for washing the smaller things. Needless to say it wasn’tjust the dirty clothes that got soaked. The mould? I discovered ifyou give it a good scrub and leave it for an hour or two in the sun it comesout completely, and the Lord has been good enough to let the sun shine morethan it has rained. And my heart? Well, it is a little moregrateful for the country I was privileged to be born in and for our family’shealth, and for the many, many blessings that are reigned down on me everyday…especially in Samoa.

Oh and the cockroaches? Not such good news for them. We have boughtsome powerful spray that brings them to a speedy demise…between that and apracticed hurl of a sandal they stand little chance of survival anywherewithin 20 feet of us.