Monday, December 24, 2012  Some people get presents under their
Christmas tree.  Me? I get a family of 5. 4 children under 8 and
their mother sleep on the couches and on mattresses laid out on
the living room floor.  It's 5:30 am and I find a place to
squeeze in between the pile of children and blankets and attempt
to have some "quiet time" by the light of the Christmas tree. I
am distracted. Her kids all have a cough and they breathe
heavily and toss and turn all around me. Her chest heaves and a
small moan escapes her lips. The rain pounds loudly on the tin
roof and we need this rain so I try to be thankful for it. I
dream for her future. I dream that she'll live. I fleetingly
wonder if there are relative who will raise this brood of young
ones if she doesn't.  I wonder what their future will hold. I
wonder what this day will hold. I watch their chests move up and
down and hear my precious ones begin to stir in the other room,
and I wonder if I can so it again today, the 17 children and the
sick and the bro