In Africa, (I used to live there for a while), I would see sickness a lot. A whole lot. The mind tries to make sense of it all, figure out they why of it all - but in the end, it is just there and the details really don't matter. Is it important that one woman contracted AIDS because she was raped and while another was not? No. Not one bit. Because in the end, you have two very ill people - people who need our love, our comfort, our understanding, and definitely not our judgment. They are sick; not guilty. Not deserving. No one deserves that life.
I am going to tell you the story of Lorraine and Gardner, though. It is a great one. I met these two while serving as a missionary in Johannesburg (rough town, but it has my heart). We heard about these people that wanted to be taught and we set out to find their place. We drove to this muslim community way out in the middle of nowhere. There was a mosque, prayers streaming village wide on the speaker system, straight out of a movie. We spent an hour trying to find this address, that really didn't exist because it was an abandoned building on the outskirts of town. I was newly sick, tired and running on steam. Ready to give up and go home (greenie of the year!), my trainer had talked me into trying one more street. We did, we found them.
As is often with township life, one family was living in one room. A hot, concrete room. Maybe 10x10. There was one bed that the parents and the little girl share, and a little room on the concrete floor that the 12 year old son would stretch out on. There was one tiny window, and it wasn't safe enough to leave the door open at night, so you can imagine how hot it would get in there. Electricity is all pre-paid there, so if the money is low, that leaves, too.
We sat on buckets outside at dusk and got to know them. Lorraine was the mom, Gardner, the dad. Their little girl was named Dolly and the boy was Lorraine's from a previous relationship. Gardner worked very hard, doing odd jobs to make a living. In Africa, so many line up on corners every morning, hoping people would pick them up for a day's labor. You don't work that day; you don't eat that day.
Long story short, we taught these wonderful people the gospel. And they taught us. They eventually decided they wanted to be baptized, and we were elated. They needed to be married, first however. There are two kinds of marriage in black Africa - legal and traditional. legal and tribal. In order to be 'traditionally' married, the groom has to pay 'labola,' or a dowry (usually a few cows or the money that they would cost), in order to be married. If that doesn't happen, the marriage isn't deemed. Legal marriage is a whole other story and that is rare amongst township life. If a groom can't pay labola, the couple will just move in together and start their lives while they save up money until they can pay and get married.
Well, we coudn't help them pay labola but we sure could get them legally married. Bishop's office, one of my cakes, get 'er done. Baptism date was set for the day after, that Sunday. A week before, though, Lorraine found out she had AIDS. Everyone's first thought was that Gardner would be positive, too. Somehow - he was negative. We were worried that he wouldn't want to go through with this, although he adamantly did - what an example of unconditional love and forgiveness this man had. The details didn't matter to him, the blame game never came.
A few miracles happened, the ward came together, and we were able to put on quite a wedding at the church for them. We walked into a bridal store, asking how much it would be to rent their simplest dress they had. We told him the story, he quietly told us to bring her in and she could pick out the dress of her dreams. He called a florist and ordered her a bouquet. Some lady in the store overheard us and handed us money for some shoes. The relief society put on a reception; and it was a day of joy and laughter.
The next day, my last Sunday in that area, they were baptized. They were able to 'leave it all in the water,' and start their new lives with clean slates. It was hard to say goodbye to them but knowing they would have the gospel in their lives as they were going to face this terrible disease made it a lot. easier.
A few years later, after I was home, Lorraine passed away. The hows or whys didn't matter and she didn't deserve one part of that terrible illness. I found peace in knowing that the Lord has great plans in store for her and her family.
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