Hi there. I have created this site so that you my friends, family and sponsors can keep in the loop during my year on the Anastasis - in Ghana and Liberia. I will update it as often as I am able, and hope that you can get the feel of life on board a volunteer hospital ship!

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Reuben's Story

Monrovia 11 May 2007 –Tucked away in the furthest corner of the Mercy Ships hospital ward, Reuben sits hidden next to his mother, Oretha. A large baseball cap covers his head and with his whole body hunched over, his face is almost concealed from view. Perplexed and intrigued, I had to speak to them. A tiny smile and a whispered hello escapes from Oretha’s lips as I introduce myself. Looking up, she motions to her son and ushers him forward, “My son, Reuben!”

As she speaks his name, Reuben shyly turns his head and looks up at me. Two raw, red eyes peer out from underneath the baseball cap. Burnt and disfigured, I have to fight my initial reaction to recoil. His face is unimaginable, almost monstrous. Yet all I can do is reach out my hand and say hello.


Everyday patients arrive at the Mercy Ship with horrific disfigurements. What seems so extreme can easily become the norm. Yet, every so often there is a patient that totally throws you. Reuben was just such a patient. As I perch on the edge of the opposite hospital bed, Reuben immediately looks away, bending his head. He’s just a little boy, only twelve years old. I can’t even begin to imagine what pain he must have been through.

As I begin to chat with Oretha, Reuben sits with his face hidden; unmoving. “He fell into a fire when he was only four years old,” Oretha’s face is etched with her own pain as she answers some of my questions. “People told us that we should throw him out. He could no longer be called a son. But I love him, he’s my son. “He’s never been able to attend school,” she continues, He loves soccer but the other children kick sand in his eyes because he can’t blink.” The emotion that chokes her voice is intense. I sit on the bed, just holding her hand. For years Oretha and her husband have been praying for a miracle. They see the chance for an operation onboard the Mercy Ship as an answer to those prayers.


After Reuben’s first surgery I return to the ward. A huge, beaming smile on Oretha’s face greets me. Eye-lids and lashes have been reconstructed on one of her son’s eyes. It looks painful but the outlook is positive. Over the next five weeks I have the privilege of watching an amazing change take place in Reuben and Oretha’s life. There’s an incredible physical transformation as the boy’s eye-lids are reconstructed. Yet, nothing is more amazing than to see their emotional and spiritual states totally transformed.


Gradually Reuben’s confidence grows. No longer does he hide underneath his baseball cap. He runs and cycles around on the aft of the ship, he plays and laughs with other children in the ward. The change is truly miraculous. Sitting with him one afternoon, Reuben beats me at a game of connect four. Giggling and laughing with glee he looks up and grins, challenging me to another game. I cannot believe that this is the same boy; the boy that before couldn’t even look me in the face.


As the time draws near for Oretha and Rueben to leave the Mercy Ship, their excitement is infectious. “I can now play soccer with my brothers!” exclaims Reuben. “Everyone is waiting to welcome us home,” the smile on Oretha’s face is beautiful. “We are buying a goat to eat and celebrate. Our praises to God are immense!”

Story by Lu Mizen