Run!

I promised I'd tell you about Saidu, World Hope's county director for Sierra Leone—and my guide in Freetown. When you first meet the guy, you think he's all about fun. Take last night, for instance: Even though he had been waiting for me to arrive at the airport (with his very bored son) for about five hours he laughed when he saw me and chatted happily as he drove me to my hotel—plus he stuck around until he was sure I was safe and settled. The laughter kept up even while fixing the airline ticket problem and dealing with my poor skills in accent interpretation.

But Saidu is much more than an all-around nice guy: he's a hard-working, dedicated man of God who has experienced more suffering than many of the people he is serving.

Saidu had been telling his story to me while we drove all over Freetown. It was tough to have the story interupted at such critical moments so often, but it was even worse to sit in the hotel restaurant overlooking the ocean at dinner tonight as "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" played and Christmas lights twinkled in the background. His life was far from wonderful—and I wasn't sure if I could handle any more stories of pain.

Like so many others in West Africa, Saidu and his family had to run from home after home, year after year, to escape the rebels—often surviving with his life by outright miracles. At times he was caught completely unaware and had nothing but a towel around his waist; at other times he was ready with a tank full of gas and extra cans in the back. "Always, though, I was afraid," he said. "Even now, when I see people running, I feel panicked—because people running meant only one thing. Or when I hear voices at night, I think I have to run; I momentarily forget that curfew is no more."

When he leaves, I'm thankful for a few minutes alone so that I can cry. I need to let some of my emotions out so that I can be fully engaged when Estee comes to finish his story. He should be here in a few minutes. Oh, God, give me strength.