"...in that the rich are made low..."

He was of medium height, slight in his build, and wore glasses to read his copy of the Book of Mormon and Doctrines and Covenants, “…a supper of the house of the Lord…First, the rich, and the learned, the wise and the noble” he read out loud to me. “Will you be baptized by one holding the authorized authority this Friday afternoon? You are of this verse, brother, and the Spirit has whispered that to you” was my question to Jonathan. With a long pause, and a silent prayer in our hearts, With tear filled eyes, “I will, for I know Almighty God has lead you here to answer my lifelong search” was his reply. Some months back, Jonathan had studied with the missionaries but the weakness of the flesh, postponed the blessings of baptism. He had a life checkered with sin, indulgences of man and a soul racked with un-forgiven deeds. His lifelong quest was to relieve himself of those burdens that weighted his countenance and clear judgment. With Sunday after Sunday attending churches for the pleasing word of God, he fell deeper and deeper into the ways of the world that brought additional shame and disgrace. Married 3 times, divorced 3 times; children who had disowned him for his example, and heaped shame, shadowed this man’s life and existence. Reconciled to a worthless life, he lived among the beggars and thieves. Days turned into months and months into years for Jonathan and his search.

He is a school owner, university educated, prosperous with wealth earned by his mind. He held positions of leadership in the community, yet now was recognized as a man who had lost control of his actions and thoughts. He was the town drunk and most mornings found him lying on the streets before he staggered to his school. The teachers of the school were dedicated to the innocent children who came for teachings that would further them in this life. Jonathan was nowhere to be found most of the time and the monies of the teachers were give directly to them by the government knowing of Jonathan’s condition. It was here on the street, one dry hot day, two white shirt Elders spoke kindness to his heart. Days later they found his home and witnessed of the cleansing power of the atonement, the love of the Father for his soul, and charted a road to recovery for his life. Fighting urges of the flesh, he persisted with the Elders lessons. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and peace began to come to his heart. There were some who praised his improvements and others that continued his ridicule, but Jonathan held the course with help from above and the prayers of the branch members.  

He visited with me offering a contrite spirit and a broken heart as he outlined his life of folly, dishonesty, and heavy sin; all that racked his very personality now exposed in our interview. Months of pleading with the Lord; nights of an anguished heart of true sorrow for his sins, and how angels had sustained him through his darkest hours. I testified of the prayers of many that had been offered in his behave and the Spirit was abundant in our midst. As tears ran down his cheeks, we knelt and felt the healing hand of the Savior. It washed our hearts as one. Answers were given to our minds and we drank fully of the living water that glorious afternoon.

This past Friday Jan. 27, 2012, Jonathan was baptized by one holding the power to bind on earth and in heaven. Today he was confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and completed his cleansing from sin with the pronounced “receive the Holy Ghost”. The members of that small branch could not contain the Spirit and all stood to hug him as he returned to his bench. It was truly a witness of the Hand of the Lord and the loving arms that await those that offer their full repentant heart. I shall always remember this day and the love Jesus offers me and to us all.

(the picture below with the man on the right in front, wearing the yellow shirt is Jonathan of who I write)

  

...for ye are my sons and daughters...

Each day of our mission we have tried to exercise in some way. We most commonly walk throughout Abomosu and some of our other villages as we work in those areas. It has brought great pleasure to us as we converse with the many people. It has also caused Sister Dalton and me to grow so fond of our association with the wonderful people of this region. We do most of our shopping in a large town just an hour north of Abomosu called Nkawkaw. The open market offers more variety of items that will sustain us for a month at a time. There are hundreds of small stands with fresh vegetables, fruit, dry goods and a large open butcher shop. Dairy is challenge to find and something we are learning to go without except for special occasions. The market covers a one square mile with thousands of people crowded everywhere. It was most frightening the first time we ventured to in the market, but has now become a real highlight of our month. We have tried about every kind of exotic fruit, veggis, and even hot meats. (Alligator, monkey, bush meat, and other things I was afraid to ask for the name) But the experiences we share weaving though the market on those shopping days are a memorable addition to our mission service. We have become “regulars” at some of the small stands and have become somewhat as “celebrities” as we mingle. The children run up to us and just want to touch Sister Dalton’s soft white skin. For me, they just want to rub my “hairy” arms. The Ghanaian men do not have hair on their arms as I do. The hockers at the shop always laugh as we respond with our version of Twi, but never have we felt threatened or uneasy rubbing shoulders with all of the other shoppers. We comment to ourselves how we love this experience, something we had never thought we would.

There is a tucked away stand we like for this woman’s smoked fish, mostly a small silver salmon. She carefully counts every fish and searching for only the freshest fish for our bunch. She always put one extra fish in the newspaper wrap and says it for the “pay of God’s workers” and closes the wrap and puts it’s in our basket. There is a crippled man who runs a tiny stand and he is a “bookie”. He always wants us to place a “righteous bet” but we have fun with him as we pass by his stand a couple of times during our time there. He has become a good friend to give us directions where to find different items. Last time I was asked to make a bet I said I will give him a sure bet, “the Lord loves him and I will one day see him walk and run alongside his grandchildren with strong legs.” I remember his shocked look as I pulled out 20 cedis and asked him to match it. We always make our way through the maze of people and shops to visit with a deaf young man. He is a bagger for a stand that is a bit larger than most. They offer canned goods, bags of rice, flour, and sugar. He is a member of the Nkawkaw Branch and carries a deaf government card that states he is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a bit unusual to see that on a government issued card, but that is common as I have found out afterwards. He is a very strong young man of 24 and loves the church with all of his heart. We love buying something from the small store and he always then walks with us to our car carrying our basket and bags. With my limited memory of the sign language alphabet, we seem to have fun walking and signing. He always gives Sister Dalton and me the biggest hug you can imagine, we feel just like we are being hugged by a bear with his size. He is an Elder and is the branch Single Adult rep. and I’m sure serves well. I don’t think there is a person in that whole market that doesn’t know him and loves his spirit. He’s a real gem in our day of shopping.

                Each time we considered our experiences of shopping at this open market, we see the hand of the Lord in the lives of so many including our lives too. We always try to set on a small bench where there is each time an older woman who tries to tell us a story and we have no idea what they are saying. We laugh and sometimes cry with her as we listen to her express her feelings. Yet we always end our sharing moments with “yaa-bay-shee-yah”, (we will meet again) and she will then take our hands and gently rub them on her cheeks. It is humbling and so rewarding for Sister Dalton and I. We will meet again either here in Nkawkaw or in the hereafter. We will remember everyone we have encountered and united through the Spirit while here in Ghana. That is the most comforting desire for Sister Dalton and me. May you cherish those who you come upon during your journey through this life is our prayer for all.

"...I'll walk with you..."

We sat a distance away from the bank and shared with President Amoh, of his struggles with members who had lost all, their needs and his only council to them of faith in the Almighty who knows all. We spoke of our love and support for he and his small flock. We shared our faith, with his, as we humbly knelt together in prayer. I distinctly remember President Oppong calling ministering angels to attend the families of that branch and witnessed a brother shed tears of thankfulness for the safety of all of the saints and concluding with our pledge to follow the will of Fathers. We embraced again and waded back into the river so full. I felt at peace and surely buoyed up from the experience I had witnessed with hand and heart. President Oppong, President Amoh and I still talk of that experience with soft tones and in reverence.

                The following day we began to see that the river had not risen during the night and the rain had stopped for a while. Stories of people being recused were heard far and wide in the streets of the village. Sharing with fellow community members of meager meals was common; witnesses of the protecting hand of God were repeated in meetings and in groups of conversations; blessings were given to members and non-members alike who desired them. Water became a concern because of shallow wells that people depended upon in different parts of the village. They were now contaminated with the stagnant flood waters. We had a concern for the Medical Center in town that was manned by a wonderful assistant and two nurses. There was no way to send people to hospitals for serious illness or ailments. Their medicines were depleted and no way to be replenished. We had reports of people drowning because they needed food and were trying to reach their farm when they were swept down the river. No end in sight and very little food or water was the report we gave President Judd and the Area authorities. Each and every day we were in constant contact with President Judd. We felt his guidance and love for the situation at hand and his prayers were continuous in our behalf. Doctor and Sister Fife continually coached us of cleanliness and protect from diseases surely that would come. But with all of these reports and happenings, I knew we were watched over by angels. The faith of these members as they silently and quietly shared with those in need, has gone unsung. They themselves had very little to share but they gave freely. I never heard of anyone going without some type of food each day. There were those that harvested their farms that were on higher ground, knowing they would have little for their future. They delivered corn to families without fanfare or knowledge by most; they just saw the need and went about serving others.

                Each day we met as a council at the Abomosu chapel with reports and plans for the future. I realized early on that the real challenge was to come after the flood had long gone. I instructed the council we must prepare for the time when the normal harvest of food stuffs would be non-existent, four to six months down the road. We must teach our saints to have faith in the God who created them and gives us all breath and substance. We discussed the testimonies we will be required to bear as we visit with the members. We leaned upon the Spirit even more when the realization of what the future would bring, sank into our hearts. We felt the inspiration of a loving Father as we discussed the future and the needs of our saints each day. I have felt prayers in Twi, in English, and words of thanks for all blessings of life. My testimony was fortified when Pam and I knelt each night and offered a humble report to our Maker. We never seemed to weary of His comforting wash, received so many times on our knees. I testify He watched over us in all that we thought, and physically preformed. Those days were special as I look back at them now five months later and feel that same peaceful sweet compassion to my very soul, even now.

                The waters receded and life has resumed its pace, pleasures and challenges. Market goers tell no stories of the flood or the difficulties we experienced. Yet, the harvests are sometimes so small it has caused some to move to other regions for work and life. Some farms are still left empty and barren from the floods sweeping effects. But there are those that have returned to cultivated and replant with faith that God will bless with His Grace. I have followed trails to many farms and still witness the faith of those that trust in the Lord and have spent days toiling by the sweat of their brow. May you know of the nourishing prayers offered in faith as they sow once again on farms once under water. I have seen others that have lost their faith in whom all blessing flow; they have not gone forward with faith. Two weeks ago while attending Asunafo Branch meetings, the branch President stood and bore fervent testimony of God’s love for his children and related how he too, had lost all of his farms to the flood. No money to replant or way of sustaining his family was his God given plight. He wept as he shared examples of his saints in that very branch, who sustained him through those times. With their help on his farm as people shared plant starts and labored to replant food stuffs. He spoke of Plantain and Cassava, rice and Gari being left at his home when they were sleeping or while he was gone doing Church duties. He witnessed how the Lords hand had graced his family. He then pronounced a wonderful blessing upon his beloved brothers and sisters. I shall forever treasure that sacred moment in my heart, for I saw the spirit of King Benjamin that holy day. I have not heard a complaint, or a curse towards the Lord, or a faithless re-sowing. Instead I have knelt with families in their farms and heard their prayers of thankfulness, their dependence upon His goodness and mercy. Alongside priesthood brothers, I have carried a small harvest for others that have not yet received produce from their own farm; never a discouraging word by those without, just praise for the breath they have and the strength they see in the Lords arm, his bounteous blessings and tender mercies that sprinkle their life. I have been enlightened by this people of faith, displayed throughout their whole being. Oh, that I may be able to stand with these sons and daughters in giving thanks to our Father in Heaven with every breath of life.

I witness of His love and watchful eye; the gentleness of the workings of the Spirit and the loving arms of the host of heaven.  He lives to redeem us from our follies and encourages us with His loving care. I am thankful for my sacred call to serve these disciples of God. May my faith always be unwavering as these brothers and sisters we now live alongside. I pray for their protection and care on life’s sojourn.   May these events be so written on my heart that they will carry me through the eternities.

"...great is thy faith be it unto thee...."

 I have been prompted to relay an experience while out only 6 weeks on our mission. I have not written much about this but to very few, so I would hope you will take this in the Spirit it is written. It will be a two part entry with the completion coming next Monday. I do not want to forget the great faith of the saints in our Abomosu District.

It began raining Sunday morning about 5AM. It was the hardest rain I have ever experienced in my 61 years. Our little home has a tin roof so made the sound even louder as we place buckets, pans, bowls and end even plates everywhere, before we headed off to Church. Power went off before we left at 8:30AM so we knew few people would be at church that day. We returned at 2PM and it was still raining just as hard as when we had left. Streets were flooded many of the small ditches were overflowing. The noise of the rain falling on our roof was just unbelievable- it was if a herd of horses were running on the roof. We came home to water and flooding from the roof leaks. The worst was the direct leak over my side of the bed. We struggled to clean, mop, mop ,mop and mop with all we had available. We were the lucky ones for the rain had fallen so hard for so long that many of villagers with Palm leaf roofs had no dry place at all. By evening around 8PM the rain stopped as quickly as it had begun. Silences was everywhere; no one out and about as usual. Still no power so our candles kept us in the light. Cell phones did work but only intermittently. With no power I pulled the generator out and got it started and connected to the home power box. As soon as the towns’ people knew we had power, they came in droves to charge their cellphones. Later that evening the internet went down- figures. We arose at 6:30 on Monday and still no power but there was internet coverage so phones were working fine. Sister Dalton had scheduled with two wonderful sisters in the Asunafo Branch to bring them to our home and bake cookies, something they had never done in an oven. It was a grand time for the three of them in the kitchen together; Jovea and Evelyn speaking Twi and Sister Dalton speaking English back to them. It was fun to be on the side and watch how they became fast friends. We packed up their Banana Bread and cookies and headed back. This time we only made it to the first small creek a couple of miles from their village. We witnessed a river that had only been a creek just a few hours before. The sisters got out and said they would wade the water to get to their families. I was nervous but they put their treasured baked treats on their heads and began wading through. I told them I would not leave until they had safely reached the other side. The water, not flowing so swift, but getting deeper as I stood on the bank watching them cross, was a real concern to me. I offered a silent prayer they would be safe. The water was slightly above their waist but they made it through and waved when they reached the other side- maybe a half of a mile. Sister Dalton and I turned and headed back to home when I received a call from Stephen Abu who said there had been some flooding and were we “Ok?”. Safe and sound we said except for my side of the bed was still damp. Sister Dalton won’t switch sides so I was out of luck for a dry night of sleep. At least the rain had stopped- but wait, around 7PM the rain came again and it seemed to be just as hard. Pots, buckets, bowls were all put back at our previous spots. By 10PM the rain stopped again. Still no power.

                The following morning I was awakened by at 4AM and Brother Abu called for my help for his house was jeperdy of flooding. I jumped out of bed and ran to his house and it was then I realized we were in for a dangerous time with the rivers flooding their bank everywhere. I organized the Utah State students that were sataying at the Abu home, to begin sandbagging around the home- something the villagers had never done or had an idea what I was talking about. The Utah fellows knew and began to collect plastic bags to fill. I called Elders Domonic and Edwards to come and assist- they came in a heartbeat and began to see the magnitude of our situation with the Abu home. Other came with stories of flooding’s and homes that were under water. I ran to others to assess their needs and hated to tell them they had lost all of the home as the water kept raising as we were even standing there assessing the magnitude of the river movement.

                It was then I prayed for help from the only source available to help in this situation. Over the years I have always tried to be prepared for any disaster, but until you witness the power of a river raising 12” every 30 minutes, you really are not prepared. The church training and emergency training seminars and the plan was laid out in my mind by the Spirit. It was not a loud voice but a comforting calming feeling that consumed my whole being. I knew The District president was scheduled in the Abomosu chapel, at a teachers training so called him and said I would meet him within 10 minutes. I asked him to call the Branch Pres., Pres. Twum, and have he and Bro. Agyei at the chapel in ten minutes also. Brother Abu came with us. As we pulled up to the chapel, President Oppong, the District President met me at the car and said there was major flooding throughout the district and he had been called by most of the branch presidents of what to do. I remember him distinctly asking me what he should say to his presidents, he did not know what to say or do in this situation. I embraced him with my arms and said, “Brother, we have the priesthood and can control the elements if that was the Lord desire. Let’s set and council together. The Lord will instruct us.” Two young missionaries, the district president, a branch president and his councilor, a faithful member, and I knelt and petitioned the lord in humble prayer for His guidance and help. That same feeling of calmness washed me again, as it had earlier that morning. I asked President Oppong if I could conduct this special meeting as he presided. Gladly he acknowledged my request. Oh how the Spirit directed our thoughts and plan. I testify it was by the Spirit all things were made known to 7 humble priesthood holders. Abomosu, Asunafo, Asuom, and Sankubenase were all cut off from any coming or goings because of the flooding. No going in or coming out of taxis, people or animals due to the still rising river. We could communicate through our cellphones, but still no power.

                We organized the village into sections and sent out a call to all priesthood holders to come to the chapel and divide into twos to visit every member active or less-active and report back by 3PM that afternoon. Their visit was to determine who needed help or food, who had lost their homes and arrange a place to stay until the flood resided, and if they could give some of their extra food to others who needed help. You must remember that the people in these villages live hand to mouth with their farms being their food supply and if they could not get to their farms this was a serious threat to their survival. We called each branch president and instructed them to do the same and report back to the District President and his council by 3PM that afternoon. We needed an accurate assessment of all of our members and their safety. I visited homes assigned to my area and was sometimes in tears as I heard the stories of snakes and scorpions fleeing the river, whole farms underwater and all of their crops gone down the river, there were scenes of panic as to what they were to eat in the future. I was hugged by so many as they kept repeating, “W’aba, W’aba menkyen”, you have come, you have come to me. Many had not been to church for years but they recognized the priesthood in action, now when they needed it the most. We reported of home that had absolutely nothing to eat or would be without food in a couple of days as did all of the branch presidents at the appointed 3 PM hour. A call to President Judd and our challenges were relayed. He was most supporting of our doings and plans. He strengthened us with words from the scriptures and told us he was praying for our safety and quick recovery. Please keep him abreast of all the happenings for as of that point, no word of flooding had reached Accra or the news. A call to the area Doctor for direction and advice was also reassuring. Dr. Fife and his wife were so helpful and we owe much of our Tyfoid and Maleria prevention to their advice and direction. These fine people were spot on with their prayers and council. I will never forget their concern and comforting support. It seemed as though all of our hands were tied; President Judd and the good doctors could not get here to help, nor could we get out of Abomosu to help others. We were all islands, physically, yet connected by the brotherhood of the priesthood and mighty prayer.  That night we all prayed the rain would not come again, our answer came again about 1AM when it rained for only a couple of hours.

                For the next three days we shared our food supplies with all we could. All members shared their surplus with those that had none. We would meet twice each day and survey the water level, the needs of the members and the other villagers, taught cleanliness lessons and advised many with no hope for the future. But it was those vivid memories of families that had lost their entire livelihood, their farm land which was still under water with no recession in sight. We communicated with all of our fine Branch Presidents who were shepherding their flocks the best they could. They had no answers for the saints without and those that were rapidly depleting the meager amount of food. Each and every village was now in the throes of no food because they could not get to their crops. I remember pleading with the Lord with tears for these humble people who did not know what to do. This had never happened in the memory of the oldest members of the community, some over 90 years old. Village markets had no food to sell or share- they were non-existent in all of the villages by then. Reports of 100’s of snakes coming through the village, was common; Scorpions were sighted in trees and spotted next to homes and on foot paths.  In the Branch Presidents daily reports I could hear and sense their struggles with keeping the faith, alone. I knew they were carrying most of the responsibilities of shepherding by themselves. Most of these humble men had lost all of their farmland or the major part of their crops to the flooding. No help insight, was the outlook, yet I still had that witness, all will be for your good.  The District President and I knelt together often and prayed for understanding and direction how to help these fine Branch Presidents bare their burdens.

It was one night after a heavy day of worry, I awoke with the whisperings of my scoutmaster, Brother Daines who has long left this earth, “Good job Jimmy, you completed your mile swim.” I was thirteen when he said those words and now they come back to my mind. I knew then I would swim through the river and meet with President Amoh in Sankubenase, I just felt if I could wrap my arms around him he would feel comforted and buoyed up to carry-on.  I remember looking across the flowing water that seemed so far across to the other side. I called President Amoh and told him to meet me on his side and I would be there in a short time. I asked President Oppong to come with me and he was a bit hesitant but was there by the bank at the appointed time. A number of villagers had heard that the “Obuni” would swim over to Sankubenase and they came to see if it could be done. It was just a few feet in the water when I realized President Oppong could not swim a stroke, yet he had waded with full faith into the flowing river. No one swims here in the bush and you don’t go in water that is over your waist. We devised a way he could ride on my back through the deepest part of the river. We were passed by two snakes as we crossed the flow. A time or two, I did feel my age but I never doubted we would not arrive safely. We made it with President Amoh helping us the last few feet. There on the river bank, that had caused us so much heartache, three brothers of the priesthood, embraced for several minutes. Tears of joy ran down our cheeks; not a word spoken, just locked in an embrace of brothers. 

"...goodliness thereof is as a flower..."

       He was poor, without want and who gave thanks to his Almighty God for his life. These folks sing and dance for just about every occasion, including a funeral. A brother in the church past away last Thursday night and a simple traditional funeral was experienced by the entire village. It was 5AM Saturday morning and we could begin to hear very loud music from a sound system. This is the way the community would be alerted of the celebration that would be a part of their day’s activities. The music was African Gospel and with the beat, quite literally swayed your whole being. The closer I walked to the proceedings, the louder the sound penetrated your body. I was asked to speak a few words about this gentleman for I had befriended him during our visits to the branch a number of times. The gathering had begun and most mourners were not in the black or red clothing signifying a mourning state. They were all dressed in brilliant colorful dresses and wraps. There were two awnings erected for people to escape the heat of the sun with the village Chiefs and dignitaries at the head of the compound. 

          This man was 74 years old and had died in his sleep. He had one daughter with whom he lived. He was a simple farmer with one farm measuring approximately 2 acres. He was illiterate and had never written his name. I remember when I had heard that he could not read or write, I placed a pen in his hand and with my hand covering his, printed his name. I gave that to him so he could look upon his written name, something he had never seen until 5 months ago. He raised Plantene and Cassava along with a small crop of Cocoa. He was a native of Abomosu and had not traveled out of this district during his life. Over four years ago he was approached by a neighbor with the news of a church that claimed to have authority from God and would he be interested in attending with him. Shortly thereafter he entered the waters of baptism and attended faithfully the remainder of his life. He sat on the right side of the chapel along with 4 other older men- most were widowers. He lost his wife to a snake bite over 10 years ago and remained faithful to the love he shared with her. He had not held a leadership position in the community or Church. He had never ridden in a bus or seen the big city of Accra. He was just a simple man who gave thanks to Almighty God for his abundance. The abundance you ask, a small farm, strength to plant and harvest, a daughter who took him in after her mother died, and a faith to carry him through the eternities. Tall, lean, raw boned, man of integrity and gentleness who graced my life while we have been in Abomosu. He loved flowers and raised “heavenly beauties” he use to call them, as he shared with Sister Dalton and myself as we walked through his small garden of native flowers. The most impressive was the Bird of Paradise that seemed to flourish in his patch by the home. They were most impressive and brought much joy to him when he plucked a flower and placed it in Sister Dalton’s hair. The softer things of life were his joys and rewards.

                I thought, as the music was pounding the beat through the earth we were setting upon, could this be following the council of the Brethren as outlined in the Handbook of Instructions, dignified, solemn, and a spiritual experience for all that attend? There were people dancing and waving white handkerchiefs above their heads. There was soft tears by most of the mourners as they viewed the body of this man; there was a bit of confusion, at one point, as the casket  the maker demanded more money from the daughter, during the services. Members of the Church from all of branches had traveled to this spot, to pay their last respects to a man who had touched their life in some small way. This was not to be a funeral as most dignities would demand but a gathering of folks who respected this man’s simple yet rewarding way of living life. Most as I found out later had received at one time or another, a bouquet of flowers from this man’s garden, usually delivered while they slept and was a welcome sight when they arose from their slumber. Was this really what this man would have wanted, I thought?  It was answered in that very moment as a comforting feeling filled my breast as I surveyed the scene. The women were dressed in the most exquisite colorful dresses, a tribute to his collection of vibrant colored flowers; men wore their traditional wraps with brightly colored sashes tied to their waist; and the children had vibrant bows tied to their dresses and shirts. The coffin is usually draped with a white cloth that represents a sacred passing of a loved one. This humble soul’s simple white coffin, was literally covered with every color of bright, lively colored cloth found in Africa. People were comforted as they continued to bring brightly colored pieces of cloth and gracefully placed them on his casket. It was an explosion of color and happiness shared by the entire village, as I gazed over the compound. A happy sending for one who had shared his lovely flowers with so many. This truly was an emotional event for all us to share our love for this simple man who was poor, without want, who gave his life for his All Mighty God. Without men like Agyei Kwame in our lives, surely our sojourns would be without color or joyful moments. Oh, that our lives may be so celebrated is my humble prayer.    Agyei Kwame 1937- 2011