The Valpo Core Reader


Mary Chilcote

Document Type

Birth and Creation Essay

Publication Date



Sleeping awake I hear the desperate cries of the lonely and forgotten children of Old Mutare Mission. The pungent smell of sadza, sweat, and dust returns. I feel the warmth of the scorching sun ablaze in the vast sky. The acacia trees whisper softly in the twilight as antelope graze peacefully in the plains. The drums of the Maasai warriors pound in my heart and their rich voices ring in my ears. I see the women carrying firewood on their heads and buckets of water from the stream in their rough hands, and a sleeping baby on their back. Destruction and pain have entangled the helpless children and people of this land. I see the ebony faces of beautiful children-frail, hopeless, afraid, tragic, staring longingly into my eyes searching for refuge. Africa is calling me.