As I started to minister to the children, they were pointing at the shirt of one of the girls. On the front, she had a blond hair blue eyed girl. They looked at me… and then they looked at her shirt. The children then had a special request for me…

Would I kindly let it down????

My hair came down and I allowed them to touch my hair. Sally gave me a brush so the children could brush my hair. It was so precious and to me a simple pleasure in life. Their reactions none the less were priceless.

I desired to know completely what they were saying… Mazumba’s hair is soft, slippery and different from ours… One day maybe? Even the boys wanted to have their turn brushing my hair.

Mazumba = white (european person)