No rain had come for
months in Ng’wanangi, Tanzania.  The Basukuma people with whom I work grow rice,
beans, corn and cotton.  Everything depends on the rain.  I joined the women in
our community who made a pilgrimage to the parish church every day, begging the
Blessed Virgin Mary to intercede with Jesus to bring rain.  We weren’t the only
ones praying. One day we crossed paths with a witch doctor wrapped in a black
shawl, carrying a black umbrella, a black rooster and a smoking tin can, and
mumbling incantations for the same
cause.  After a
month of prayer, I was discouraged.  Suddenly it started to rain!  The delay was
explained by a woman who told me, "Sister, heaven is very far away.  God just
heard us!"