Recently I visited HIV/AIDS patients at the general hospital.  I met a young man and his mother who sat on his hospital bed.  The other patient in the room was a Cameroonian man who was unresponsive - it was obvious he was dying in front of this young man and his mother.

After praying for everyone in the room, I left with my heart in my stomach.  Dying in a foreign country with no family by your bedside would be a nightmare in itself.  What is worse is that the hospital doesn’t even provide needed medicine. 

My greatest memories of my mother are her strong work ethic and her passion for the poor, the suffering and the women of the young Liberian church.