the most beautiful of them all
the little girl. my mother
Every time I go on a long trip from the US I ask the Lord to plant a sensitivity in my heart, an eye for pictures, to "see" the most beautiful of them all - the one picture that I take, which captures a story I need to remember.
Recently I went to Zambia. I kept an open mind. Ten days went in a flash, here now, gone the next. I had a great time.
It took me nearly a week to spot the one picture to remember among hundreds I took.
I was coming from the direction of the hospital. Then, from far down the village on a dusty path I saw her coming. She was walking behind her mother. I just knew this was it!
This is the picture of a young girl carrying a 20 kilogram bag of corn on her head. I asked the mother where they were coming from and going. She told me they were going to the grinding mill to get that corn ground into mealie-meal (corn powder) for nshima.
That girl speaks to me of my mother (MHSRIP), many years ago, when mother was a little girl like her. Looking straight ahead she kept her pace as she walked past where I was standing; to see me more clearly she turned her eyes towards me.
This girl had already walked a distance of about four kilometers (2 miles) and she was not yet where she needed to get.
She got the prize for the best one of them all.