She stood away from the crowd. She was not sure of these strange people who had come. She had lived many years in this village. Many had come to help in her village. Where did these white people come from? She couldn’t understand what they were saying. Why would they come? She was told about the love of a God she did not know. Over the years, she had learned to pray to the gods of her people. She was not aware that any of them loved her. She was not aware that any had died then risen for her. Yet, here were these people who spoke things very foreign to her. Had she not seen what she would have considered miracles in her own life let alone her village? Being encouraged to come and meet these people, she drew herself up. Held her head high and allow herself to be guided to a chair. The white man bent extending his hand. Not sure what to do, she spoke fast and furious! Startled, the man stepped back with a confused look on his face. He asked the interpreter to tell him what he had done to offend her! Sitting by her, the interpreter calmed her and asked what she said. What was translated startled not just the man, but the interpreter! She yelled, “Here you come to my village to take my picture and I will not even get a copy!” With a chuckle, the interpreter assured her would she would receive a copy of her picture. She relaxed in the company of the people who had come to care for the least of these.