Sunday--Written 11/26/2007

Sunday was another day of emotional extremes; this time pleasure and sorrow.

We went to a traditional Liberian Church, and it was AWESOME!! The music was incredible, and I loved all of the movement and dancing. Micah was clearly not so enthralled, as he was out like a light before the service even started. Is that a bad sign? For a Pastor's kid to be sleeping through his first service? ;0)

Then we went to the beach for lunch. It was so, so fun. I was hankerin' for some beef, and had a big burger with fries under the palm trees. And Corey was quite happy to have a club sandwich! For Micah's part, he made the loudest, longest production of filling his diaper I have ever heard. People at tables 20 feet away were looking. Before the food came, we ran down to the beach and played in the water, collected rocks, shells, and sand, and got some GREAT pictures, of course! ;0) Eating at the Golden Beach Restaurant was definitely a highlight.

When we got back to the Guest House, Corey and Micah layed down to rest, and I hopped in with Rich to go pick up another family at the airport. As we were driving, we saw a crowd of about 50 people yelling and waving their arms frantically, coming out into the road and blocking traffic. At first, I feared it was a riot or something. Then I saw the boy. A big, tall man had a limp, naked boy over his shoulder. We thought the boy may have been hit by a car, and backed up to see if we could transport him to the hospital. It all happened so fast. Three men flung open the door of the bench seat where I was sitting and threw the boy in. They climbed in, too, and we drove to the hospital with the boy propped between me and the biggest guy. I was holding his head in the crook of my shoulder, and Rich was driving like a wild man--even wilder than normal, which is quite a statement, let me tell you.

The story unfolded as we raced to the hospital. The men had been walking along the beach and saw the boy lying face down in the water. They said he had been caught by the second wave or something. They dove in and got him, and ran with him to the road, which Rich later told me was at least a 10 minute trip. I prayed through tears, "God, please let him be alive. God please don't let him be dead," all the way to the hospital, but I'm quite sure he had already been gone for a while. I checked for breath a couple times, and felt for a pulse, but there was none.

It was strange to shower off once we were back home, and kind of re-live the event as I washed away the sand that had transferred onto me. I was surprised at how much was on me. We think the boy was probably about 14, and I will never forget him.