Manna from Heaven

It was a race so secretive that even its participants weren't aware of the plot.

Their sponsors released their entry into the race and cheered, hoping that it would finish the course quickly.

But the race was unpredictable, and fraught with danger. It was the modern equivalent of little boys and girls racing their homemade stick rafts down a river, coaxing their raft on from the sidelines, ever hopeful of victory, but in the end powerless to effect the outcome.

Some fortunate rafts fared well. Others would be detoured by the spiraling flow of eddies; others, their fate much worse, would get stuck in a tangle of bushes along the shore, or smashed against a rock.

Some of this race's sponsors expressed disappointment at hearing that they wouldn't finish in first place. Some wondered if they would ever finish at all. It was, after all, a race half way around the globe.

To finish the race at all was a victory in itself.

Even the race marshals waiting at the finish line to crown the champion had no knowledge of which entry was nearing the finish line, or which entry was irretrievably lost.

The victors of this race would appear suddenly, as if falling from the sky. Manna from heaven, the race marshals thought.

* * * * *

Having fallen from heaven, the manna landed in a post office box across the border in Nelspruit, South Africa.

The parcels that have been arriving have contained useful gifts, entertaining gifts, and gifts that remind us of home.

Our parents have sent gifts, our friends have sent gifts, and our small group from church has sent gifts. We've heard of other gifts having been sent, but they're probably stuck swirling in an eddy somewhere between Mississauga and Maputo. They may emerge yet.

We received some books to read, some games to play, and some television shows on DVD to watch. Otherwise, we only have Portuguese television.

Most of the household things that we would want can be found in Africa. Sure, most of the locals stick to the basic staples, but there is a large enough foreign and emerging wealth community that branded consumer goods are becoming available as well.

I should specify that general categories of food products are available, but often specific preferences are more difficult to satisfy. Milk is available, for instance, but fresh milk is a challenge. We buy aseptically sealed, boxed milk that has a shelf life, without refrigeration, that can be measured in months or years. Even the farm-fresh eggs are kept on shelves in the grocery store, unrefrigerated.

One of Canada's great myths -- that eggs need to be refrigerated -- has been shattered by Africans who have no choice but to store them on a hot shelf.

One lady wrote us an email from Oregon shortly before Thanksgiving. She hadn't met us yet, but would be traveling to Mozambique and wondered if there was anything that she could bring that we couldn't buy in Africa. A wonderful gesture, we thought, and without too much consideration decided that what we wanted were cans of Campbell's condensed soups.

Soup is available here, but most abundantly in powdered form, not cans of condensed liquid.

This kind lady from Oregon was amazed that Thanksgiving could be brightened by such a simple gift. Her Christmas, she commented, would be shaped by these strangers she met in Mozambique who, when asked for anything, wanted only soup. (Ok, so we really like soup!)

Thank-you to everyone who has sent a gift, a card, or an email. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated! Many of these parcels have been arriving just in time for Christmas, and have served wonderfully to soften the hard edges of homesickness that might otherwise have been felt this season.