January 15, 2011
There is absolutely no sound like the crying of a mother who has just lost her child. I had never heard that sound before last night. But death is just one of the many terrible things that is far more common in Mozambique than it should be. My adorable little 5 year old neighbor died yesterday. She had been sick her whole life apparently, but she was doing more or less okay until yesterday when she collapsed suddenly. Her family took her to the hospital but she died a few hours later. I sat up most of the night hearing her mother's cries outside my window. It's something I will never forget.
Today I watched from above as they loaded her much-too-small coffin into a truck at the head of a line of cars full of people to go to bury her. The cries of her family followed the procession down the street and away from our apartment, but the sound still lingers in my mind.
This sound is the reason. The reason why people like myself are willing to spend two years away from their family and friends, everything they know in life, to try to help people they have never met. If I can do anything to try to educate or help even one person in this country, convince them they can become a doctor, or make an honest living to feed their family, or go get help when they need it without the stigma attached to certain illnesses, then it will make all the difference. If I can prevent even one mother from having to make the sounds I heard for the past 24 hours, then how can I not? How is that not worth two years of my time? How can I not want to give back in any way I can to help those less fortunate than myself?
Everyone can do their part. I'm just playing mine. I hope you all take some time today to think about what yours can be. What can you do to help those less fortunate, be they the ones on this side of the world or the ones who live right down the street from you.
I need some time to think. So that's all for today.
Hope you are all well.
~Alissa
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