Cump'ney

My friend Beth's husband affectionately refers to me as Company...ie, "when's Company coming?" "are you talking to Company?", "tell Company to come over and help me download music?"...Last night I had Company of my own. Dear, sweet, Sarah. I met Sarah in Mozambique. On my first day there, I get assigned to House 15. I walk into my room, both bottom bunks are taken. "Dang! I am too old to be climbing up a bunk bed", I say...aloud, to myself...but then again, there are rats in Mozambique, so I will count my blessings and climb the ladder...but rats can climb too.... I throw my stuff on a top bunk, the one on the left, because I always choose left...over right, nothing political, just another quirk. I soon learn the name of the bottom bunk occupant. Sarah. She's from Georgia. Lawrenceville to be exact. She went to UGA. She has beautiful red hair and more freckles than me, and a smile that lights up a Continent. I almost killed her while we were there. The beds were really rickety. I commented daily on the rickety bed, but never once did anything about it. Until, one day while climbing down, the rickety bed fell apart and my mattress and the large boards underneath came crashing down on Sarah's. Praise Jesus she had gotten up earlier. I guess I told her about that? Anyway, she is amazing. She is a missionary in Africa with street kids and loves working with poor, stinky, steal from you in a heartbeat street boys. She has great hope and faith that Jesus can change them and she sees it happen all the time. She takes them into town for pizza and bumper car rides and their first ever milkshake. She's watched little boys die of AIDS. Our hearts are there together. She's here on furlough. She makes me miss it. I loved just having her here, in my home. I think we could sit for hours in silence and just "be". She brings a peace and comfort wherever she goes. She's awesome.