the morning with marthaline

I left the ship early this morning to look up
marthaline with a friend.

Some of you may remember her story. A monstrous
benign tumor grew out of her mouth for years, and she
was abandoned by her husband - left to care for three
kids. MSF brought her to the ship last year where the
offensive mass was removed by Mercy Ship surgeons in a
simple hour and a half procedure.

We found her on the outskirts of Monrovia. She lives
with 12 people in a house about half the size of my
last Manhattan apartment. And with her six-year-old
son, Newton.

Our plan quickly developed, we'd get her a larger room
of her own where she can finish going to school. Pay
rent for 2 years in advance at a whopping $10 a month
so she could learn and not have to worry about
the roof over her head. And her son, who for the life
of me I couldn't coax a smile out of, should be enrolled as well

"No money" Marthaline says.

Right.

Far too easily, all is arranged. His uniform, books,
pencils and year's tuition will set us back about $50.

Then in the Land Rover to the dental clinic. The tumor
took out almost all of her bottom teeth. The volunteer
dentist from America took wax molds and chose 8 false
teeth. He asked Marthaline how she liked the spacing,
and then made adjustments. She practiced smiling in a
mirror. We paid $60 for her new smile.

She is truly beautiful now, unrecognizable through the
lens. I so clearly remember taking her "before" - but it
wasn't the tumor that so disturbed me. It was her eyes.

Now, Marthaline's a masterpiece in process, in forward
motion. A few small steps closer to wholeness with a
little money and a little love.

We stood under a palm tree by the ocean and she told
me how people treated her. "Not a human being," she
said.

Her head shook as she remembered almost committing
suicide.

Today, I'm quite sure she was glad she didn't.

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