Thus, Wallace introduced me to the Musundi family (Isaac, Maggie, Vicki, Emma and Jimmy) with whom I began corresponding 1 1/2 years prior to the trip. The children were very happy to accept me as a sponsor because of their trust in Wallace. I soon became their honorary “Auntie Linda.” My small monthly donation enabled them to stay in their “apartment,” (one room in a concrete building on the edge of a slum; a hole toilet surrounded by a shower curtain and one faucet with wash tub, shared by four families), give the girls porridge for breakfast and pay for their school fees. The children responded warmly and were able to achieve much more academically with a little food in their stomachs. They reported that their hunger headaches went away and they were able to concentrate better. They rose to the top of their 200 student classes at fourth and ninth place.

    Whenever I could, I’d find someone who was going to Kenya and send clothing, books, candies and small toys. The children enjoyed these things, small as they were, and gave them hope for a better future. I remember one of my first university students, Zer, who was the impetus for one of our student organizations becoming involved with “Operation Christmas Child. (OCC).” Zer had lived in a resettlement camp in Thailand as a child, his family having fled Laos. It was there that he received a shoe box from OCC and it made tremendous impact. He said, “I opened the box and there were gifts inside. I couldn’t believe it. First of all, I had never received a gift. My family was too poor to consider such a thing, But I tell you, when I received that box, I was totally amazed that someone from the other side of the planet knew I was here and cared about my situation.” He didn’t remember anything about Jesus or the Bible pamphlet that is included in every box courtesy of Franklin Graham, however, receiving the box gave him tremendous hope. Hope, that if someone knew he was in this camp, and cared about him, perhaps someday he’d get out. And life could be different, maybe even good. So he attended every class that was offered at the camp and learned as much as he could. Some years later, he was, in fact, able to immigrate to the United States. He chose to attend the university where I work. After graduation, he got a great job and still stays in touch with me. His story was most compelling. I hoped that my Kenyan children would feel the same kind of encouragement from me and my small monthly contribution.

   As I read the letters from the Musundi family, several things stood out. Religion appeared to served as a great comfort to many Kenyan people. In so many ways, there seemed to be little hope- of finding a job, staying in school, getting health care, getting enough to eat- yet religious belief was there in abundance. “We are in the hands of God” was a frequent reference. Even with having so little, most people would reflect back on how well and generously God had blessed them. Later, I learned that Kenya is home to the largest number of Quakers in the world. While I was only able to visit the Quaker Center once during the time I was in Kenya, I would see the vitality of Christianity everywhere. Education was also valued beyond measure, with families making extraordinary sacrifices to attain it. And, lastly, there was great longing for good government and a decent economy where people have the opportunity to earn a dignified living.