An Ounce of Prevention
Responsibilities. Some are inherently tethered to us all as individuals. Others seem to drift about with no clear “owner” until knowledge and opportunity inevitably tie them to an individual or a collection of individuals. Once you know, you know.
One thing about doing this good work for a quarter of a century, is that you have a large timeline to look back upon and reflect upon how it has all changed. And what you didn’t know then.
In a way, it was a kind of innocence.
I remember when we first began this good work in Russia. We had been there. We had witnessed first-hand, the horrible conditions that the orphan children lived in. And we set about to do something to help them.
Such a simple plan. Make sure they had enough food, adequate clothing, medical care and God’s Word. We really didn’t think beyond that simple plan, because you don’t know what you don’t know. Innocence. We wanted to see results that would help erase the horrifying images that were burned into our mind’s eye.
And seeing the results of our efforts warmed our hearts. Pictures of children in their new clothing. Infants’ lives saved with a few dollars of medicine. Children receiving treatment for their lungs with equipment we had purchased. Life-saving treatments. I can still see those pictures in my mind’s eye. Those images gave birth to tears back then and still do to this day.
The critical care of orphans has always been the core mission. Showing them God’s love in our collective actions and giving them His Word and Instruction. That will never change.
Other things have changed. And will continue to change as we recognize opportunities to prevent innocent children from ever being in such hopeless and heartbreaking conditions in the first place.
Because once you know you know. And over the years, the knowledge we have gained has tethered us to new responsibilities because an ounce of prevention is indeed worth a pound of cure.
One such ounce of prevention is The David Board Memorial Vocational College. In last month’s newsletter, we told you the story of T-girl, a long-time resident of Safe Home, and the opportunities that DBMVC has given her.
She represents one end of the spectrum of our goals for this vocational college; and that is a bridge for children that we have cared for that might not qualify for college.
The other end of the spectrum is to provide opportunities for young adults in the community to learn valuable skills that allow them not just to provide much needed services in that community, but to also be able to care for their own families and not create more orphans simply because they can’t provide for them. An ounce of prevention.
Meet Flomo P. Siafa.
Flomo was one of nine children living on a family farm in Yeala Town. The family farm could scarcely provide enough to keep the large family alive, let alone provide money for schooling. As a teenager, Flomo, who was driven to get an education, went to school on credit. Meaning after school he had to work on a local farm. This paid his school fees but provided no food. Flomo began to physically suffer from the lack of nutrition.
And so, Flomo and some friends dropped out of school and traveled more than 400 miles away to work in a diamond mine. He hoped he could earn money for school and even help his parents to provide for his 8 siblings. But it was not to be. The work was hard, and the pay was not even enough to keep Flomo alive.
Desperate, he contacted his uncle and asked to come stay with him. His uncle agreed, but when Flomo arrived in Monrovia, his uncle was no longer there. Flomo spent two long nights, cold, scared, hungry and alone on the streets of Monrovia. He called his uncle again and again and when he finally answered, what he asked Flomo to do nearly broke him.
He told him that he was in Weala County, 45 miles away from Monrovia.
Three very long and tiresome days of walking on an empty stomach would come next. Flomo arrived in the town where his uncle was supposed to be. Drained of energy, but hopeful he would finally get the help he needed from his uncle, that hope was once again dashed into a thousand pieces. His uncle was not there. Perhaps he had never been there.
Flomo told us this: “I lost all hope of survival and felt that my dreams had died, but God sent an Angel from David Board to rescue me. That very night, after seeing the sign of David Board Memorial Vocational College at an intersection in Weala, I immediately began to ask questions and I got in touch with the administrator who listened to my story and took me in. Since then DBMVC has become my pillow of hope and a dream come true. Food and accommodations were provided also.”
Flomo is now enrolled in Construction and is not only a student, but is participating in building the additional 4 rooms onto the school. His hopes are to become a skilled carpenter and open his own business. He also hopes to become a trainer at this school that not only saved his life but has given him an opportunity to have skills to care for his future family while giving back and making his community a better place.
He will become a part of the solution. Not a part of the problem.
Flomo’s faith in God is stronger than ever and he tells us that he is thankful every day for the sponsors of this school and thankful to God.
We all come to “intersections” in our life and look left and right, not knowing for sure which way to go; and those decisions can have a profound impact in our lives. But for Flomo, the intersection that he came to was both figurative and literal, with both holding a sign that all hope was not lost.
That sign was a large billboard bearing the name of David Board Memorial Vocational College. For Flomo the sign brought him to his knees, crying tears of joy. Convinced that an angel had led him there, that his faith in God had been rewarded.
Flomo’s life story has not fully been written, and his future has yet to be seen. But the playing field has been leveled and his future is much brighter. His story has taken a profoundly better direction in this chapter.
An ounce of prevention, is indeed worth a pound of cure.