Every day the green wheelbarrows loaded with yellow containers roll onto the campus grounds here where we live. Arriving empty, the containers leave full of water. These girls live about a half a mile down the road at a compound for retired police officers and their families, where there's no running water. Here at the seminary there is a tap where they can find fresh water.
Sometimes boys younger than these girls fetch water, and Tracy's had to help them push the wheelbarrows over rough ground. There are some significant ruts in their pathway.
When I see these children, for that's who they are, I wonder about their lives. I wonder what it's like to haul water every day. They don't seem to complain--in fact, they have a lot of fun at the tap waiting for the jugs to fill. What's it like for their mothers to wash clothes and dishes in buckets, as well as bathe from them? Do they heat the water, or is bathing a cold experience? I've camped before, but not 24/7, 365 days a year. Do they care whether they have running water, or are they just so used to hauling H20 that they don't mind? Whatever the answers to my ponderings, I'm thankful for running water. Living in a majority world country tends to do that to you~makes you more thankful.
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