Water Rickshaw for Thirsty African Gardens

My brother Bob tells me there are millions of "bucket farmers" in sub-Saharan Africa. This was a new concept to me, but I get the gist of it. People all over Africa are stuck with the difficult task of sending their women or children a fairly long way to get water and carry it in buckets back to their gardens.

If I had to do it, the first thing I'd worry about is sore shoulders. Then spilling a lot of the water on the way. Then heat exhaustion. But I guess these people are accumstomed to the climate.

Bob likes to design things and understands a bit about the physics of motion. He's a mechanic and has always liked tinkering with things. So he set about designing and making something he calls a water rickshaw. A child can pull one with four 5-gallon containers on it! The handles are comfortable and angled properly. The wheels are non-pneumatic, so there will never be a tire to repair.

But he could use some help from people who are good at the internet and good at administration. He's a designer and builder. And he can envision people benefitting from this thing, or some version of it. He doesn't care about profits, and has been advised that the design is too general to patent. But he needs helpers.

There are probably people in Africa using such things already, because they are simple. But the fact that researches give us such appalling statistics means this: More help is needed! There are two ways Bob envisions it. One is simply for many more people to have a great thing such as a water rickshaw. Another is for many enterprising people to grab the idea and get rolling (excuse the pun) with little micro-businesses producing the things locally! Then their families and communities could have some economic benefit, too. If you want to view a picture and see the website, its www.carts4communities.org

Is there anyone in my readership that knows about micro-loans, or how to disseminate such plans? Please let Bob know if you do. His name is Bob Lee, and his email is BoRoBeRe@comcast.net

Marion Mathews Preyer: A Tribute

Marion went home to be with the Lord about a month ago. She was my sister in Christ, though you wouldn't know it by our skin color, worship style, or culture we were raised in.

She was black, I'm white. She was Baptist, I Lutheran. She was raised in inner city Seattle, born in then "Chinatown", now "The International District". I was raised in smalltown midwest and later in middle class Tacoma.

She and I signed on to a singing group temporarily named "Operation Listen" by our founder, Don Fladland. That was the winter and spring of 1970-71. The personnel shifted a bit, but by the time we hit the road "full time" in September of '71, we were 5 people. Bruce, Candy, Linda, Marion, and John. Before that autumn launch, Marion met the great guy who would become her future husband. We were singing for a military retreat at Warm Beach near Camano Island in Washington, because JC Preyer was currently in the Air Force.

Right from the beginning Marion brought a unique alto voice to our group, which was soon named Joyous Celebration by Candy. She was trained naturally. Her music school was the everyday use of spirituals and gospel songs in the style of a black Baptist inner city church and adaptations of Negro Spirituals from her rich and poignant heritage. The immediate context was her mother's generous use of the Mathews home for Bible Clubs for kids. These were sponsored by the Union Gospel Mission. Neighbor kids added to a household already crowded by the twelve who had the Mathews name.

When we were in Kobe, Japan, I remember winding up a steep terraced narrow road to the homes we were to stay in after a concert. Marion started singing Steal Away to Jesus in a very catchy rhythmic style. I was sitting in the back, too tired to participate. I think my Norwegian Lutheran heritage was keeping me at a quiet, analytical level. But Linda and Candy were joining in and even beginning to invent some harmonies. And so it began.

Over the five and a half years I travelled with her, Marion's gifts to our group spilled over naturally to those who came to concerts. Especially to those who would become "repeat customers". They would begin to request their favorites, three of which were O Happy Day, Christ is All and God Cares. We sang at Lutheran Churches and Lutheran Youth Encounter "Congresses" all over the country. Later our audience expanded to diverse churches such as Mennonite Brethren, Canadian Baptist, and Nazarene. I can remember even singing on or behind a counter top in a casino bar in Las Vegas! (That was a strange experience!)

Because we had a strong link, as former students, to the Lutheran Bible Institute in Seattle, we all shared the importance of reflecting the truths of the Bible in what we sang. Marion had a knack for keeping this objective level well balanced with concise but very personal and warm sharing just before she would solo. It wasn't uncommon that the content of her speaking would reflect some sorrow that she was currently going through. But at the same time, we had hilarious times of laughter together. Sometimes she would actually plead with us to stop some source of humor we were egging her on with, because her sides were hurting so bad from laughter.

To JC, Monique, Lisa, and Jamese, thanks for continuing to share her with the world after her travelling days! May we all persist in the Journey as she persisted during the Bill Williams interview for the LBI choir!

You see, Don Fladland had recruited Marion to come to this all-white school ten miles north of home. She was feeling very out of place. Bill shared at the memorial that Marion came in to audition. He had music notation in front of her and some formal "white-style" hoops for her to jump. That didn't fly. Bill was thinking to himself, "This just isn't happening." But finally, in desperation, he shoved back his chair and said, "Just sing me something. Anything at all." And out came some notes that neither Bill, nor I later on, could put on paper. They came from the heart and soul of what God does in a life that's surrendered to Him.