On Sunday our Burkino Fasso lady (the one with the horrendous past, whose little daughter is an elective mute) was all lit up and glowing. The Home Office has given her right to remain, on human rights grounds.
Then who should come struggling into church on her sticks, but our Rwandan lady. She was one of the numerous victims of the horrific Hutu/Tutsi massacre. Her husband and some of her family were killed and she was left so badly injured it was thought she would never walk again. She’s had numerous ops, the last one before Christmas, to try and put her leg bones back together. She hadn’t been able to get to a service since then, so it was fabulous to see her despite the huge effort involved.
Blow me, who was dancing on my doorstep last night but our Latvian. He had his first-ever interview yesterday and got the job, as a gardener-handyman to a golf course. He is over the moon, and he’ll be a great employee, hard-working and reliable.
At St Muddles we reckon The Boss has been answering more than a few prayers recently. There was a lot of applause and not a few hugs, tears and big cheesy grins. All topped off with the blessing of our middle-eastern baby, who cooed and gurgled in all the right places and bestowed gummy smiles on everyone.
St Muddles is rocking!