There is a sense that I am having as I grow older that I need to be reminded to remember things.  It is getting a bit frightening to tell myself or someone else that they need to help me remember.  I am getting worried about Project 24 when I think of the fact that some who are intimately involved in running and managing and giving and supporting the work of mercy around the world do not know the history.

This is a picture of the Udom Project 24 Center at a place called Cheparia.  It is called Udom in memory of a young boy that came to the attention of a missionary in Africa, (not in Kenya), who was born with a handicap that meant he was shunned by his village.  He was basically on his own from the time he could walk and the missionary took him in, cared for him, educated him, but most importantly, taught him about Jesus.  When his missionary term was over and he had to come home, the attempt was made to adopt the child and bring him to  the States.   That was not allowed by the country in which he was born.  The missionary told me that once he flew away he never heard from or about that boy, whom he named Udom.

Haunted by the memory of the child and not able to go back because of health, he gave us a substantial donation to build a boarding school where like children like Udom could be educated and cared for.  He had a condition.  If he gave us this large gift of love, the center that would be built should be named Udom in the boys memory.  He did and it was.

Memories can be blessings and curses depending on how we use them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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