Rusty, Becky and your family, Maggie, Deeders and my AIN friends . . . and don't forget Jill The Pill. For these freinds and family I am thankful. And while you already know that, please, never forget it. This year I have more than ever for which I am thankful.

I’m in Saponé working with an amazing group of the new PCTs. The T is for trainees, versus PCVs (volunteers), which this awe-inspiring intelligent and motivated group will become in mid-December. Tomorrow they’re preparing Thanksgiving dinner for us, their PCVFs (PC Volunteer Facilitators). Our role as PCVFs is to facilitate PCT technical and cultural training . . . not to mention moral support. In their PCT roles as Thanksgiving chefs, however, no facilitation required. We’re expecting quite a feast. For their enthusiasm and generosity on this their first major holiday away from home, I am extremely thankful.

But even more than working with the next generation of volunteers, I am thankful, always and yet again, to Yaya, his wife Satia, and to the people of Pô. Last week Yaya and his wife packed up all their gear to show the women in this little village (which is small even in contrast to little Pô) how to make tofu. Yes, Yaya, Satia, and tiny 10-month-old Kamsa traveled here; and as you know, travel in this country is never an easy feat. Nevertheless, they came. And as it turns out, they came for me.

Throughout last week the kind staff from the Ouaga office of the PC repeatedly expressed their gratitude to my homologue and his wife, reinforcing PCHQ's understanding of the difficulties of traveling such a great distance from Pô.

Anyone out there ever been a mom? Anyone ever packed-up a baby for a play-date across town? Bottles, formula, cloths, blankets . . . right? Now imagine not having those modern baby-care conveniences and packing up a baby, kilos of soy beans, all the accouterments for tofu, and leaving three other children under the age of 16 at home in Pô. But this they did . . . for me.

I naively assumed that Yaya and Satia felt honored to come demonstrate Satia’s prowess as the tofu queen, particularly in light of the fact that VIPs from the U.S. Embassy were to watch her, along with members of the Burkinabe press. In fact, I was wrong, again . . . just as I am so often mistaken during every day of my PC service. Satia cared nothing for the publicity, she came for me.

And let’s remember, Satia doesn’t speak French. She speaks Kassim and Moore. So a translator was required at all times. Anyone want to speculate at how intimidated she must have been with the press and members of the Embassy? And yet Satia was poised and lovely, as always. When the three-day program concluded, my direct PC supervisor thanked Satia again for traveling so far. Satia’s response? I’ll try to paraphrase it:

I came here for Kathy (which she pronounced Cahtty). I would have gladly traveled two or three times as far for Kathy. I will never be able to thank Kathy for what she has given me and my family. I am not an educated woman. I left school before I completed elementary school. I have no money of my own and am dependant on my husband. When he is busy, unhappy with me, or away from Pô, I have been forced to borrow money from friends to buy a box of matches [the U.S. equivalent cost being about 2 cents].

And then . . . get ready for this, Satia said:

Only God could do more for me and my family. God is great. We are thankful for his blessings. But Kathy has left an impact of our family that only God can understand and exceed.

OK, by the time I heard this tears were streaming down my cheeks. You’ve read this blog. You know how humble, inadequate, often flippant, but also sometimes totally useless I feel as a PCV. These feelings may never change while I’m in The B.F. . . . I was humbled months ago. But hearing the words from my darling Satia made me realize just how very little it takes to greatly impact one life, or one family. Satia is so mistaken – only God could give me more than she and Yaya have given, unknowingly . . . merely by allowing me into their lives. I don't deserve to be included in the same sentence when Satia thanks God. I am in no way next to Godliness in anyone's life . . . though sometimes I am extra clean.

The odd thing about Satia’s gratitude? I absolutely guarantee that I have received far more from her and Yaya than ever I could give to their family. So isn’t that often the way it is? We set out to help someone who will be genuinely thankful for our assistance, and it is we who are, in fact, receiving the greater benefit.

Honestly, I am again moved to tears as I type this. Happy thanksgiving. Do I need to tell you what I’m most thankful for on this holiday? So, anyone else reading this ready to snag a tissue? We can only speculate.