I copied Becky's post from her blog because she can tell her experience much better than I could (obviously, since all I know came from her post!)
Before that, however, I want to say a HUGE THANK YOU! to everyone...EVERY ONE who supported William, Patience and the other children. You cannot guess the blessing you have been to them. THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!!!
Feet have been healed. A child that I worried would never walk again doesn’t need me any more. Mission accomplished. God DID NOT forget. Three pounds each have been added to two children who DESPERATELY needed weight. I don’t show faces, because their struggles are theirs alone to share. But, trust me, these brothers pull at my heart like NO one ever has before (and I have four, soon to be five children). Something about the way they have survived makes me love them in a different way than I have ever experienced. They will not be my children, but they are truly special. God DID NOT forget. Three days after I got here a boy appeared that I recognized vaguely. I realized that I had his picture, but that he was now markedly skinnier. He is 12 and weighed in at 73 lbs. He told me he had “Malaria”, which is the diagnosis for any fever here. Water with re-hydration salts, a portable fan and Tylenol helped. He was up and walking around with the other boys a day later. He went to church this morning and chased the other boys around the yard afterwards. God DID NOT forget. I have bandaged 4-5 wounds per day. Wounds like I have NEVER seen on our tender little American children. A boo-boo half the size would send our children to the ER for a tetanus shot and stitches. Here, they come to me with dirty cloth bandages. I have watched wounds close that I thought would for sure mean my introduction to a Ghanaian hospital. I prayed, and got up every two hours overnight to change bandages and rub them with antibiotic ointment. In the light of day, it looked better already. God DID NOT forget. I have listened to lungs for signs of heart failure, and prayed that the sounds would be normal. What would I do if they weren’t? I have no clue. So far, following the child all day with water, reminding her to stay in the shade and fanning her during the heat of the day worked. A lot of hugs and praying has worked well. And, when it got the better of us, we cried together, and then sent it up to God, because He WILL NOT forget her. I have been blessed enough to have brought everything Lucky Hill will need for their infirmary. It will be stored here in plastic until the building that is currently being constructed for it is completed. I have promised to come back then, and stock it appropriately. I have, and will continue, to work with the staff in a culturally sensitive way to discuss first aid. God WILL NOT forget the children who have yet to come here and will need the medicine that I was lucky enough to have donated to me. God didn’t forget me either. He sent me here. I needed to be reminded that there are miracles every day, all over the world, miracles that I don’t see in my disillusioned middle class, American, subdivision. Miracles that I struggled to find until I got to Ghana and looked into the faces of these children. They are all miracles. Every.single.one has a story that will bring tears to your eyes. They aren’t wasting away in a corner crying. They were all just under the giant shade tree with me, chasing bubbles that you sent them. The biggest miracle of all occurred when I handed out granola bars today and the sassiest child of all turned around to come back to me and said “THANK YOU!” Thank you, for the important respect to my culture. God is good. He is VERY good.