The red carpet is so soft that I take my shoes off every time I go into the sanctuary.  I want to feel the sponge of the carpet on my feet.  There is a cross made from beautiful drift wood hanging at the front of the altar.  I am here to pray. I am here because when I came home from Uganda I decided that I wanted to pray more.

     If the driftwood cross and the soft carpet don't work I will go into my room with the green walls and the couches.  My guitar is in that room. I'll play my guitar.  I'll play the songs that always get me.

     We are sitting inside a cramped room with blue walls.  My legs are crossed and Angela Kirabo is on my right, lying against my legs. Medi is clinging to my left arm.

     We have finished singing and praying.  William stands in the middle of the room waiting for everyone to be seated.  50 kids find places to sit.  There is not much floor left.  William tells us that tonight will be a night for testimonies. 

     Who has a testimony to give?  Come stand and speak.

     Angela sits up.  She stands and walks to the center of the room where a few others have started to line up. 

     Becca is the first person in line. She is 11, maybe 12.  She is wearing a bright red shirt.  It is too big for her and it hangs off of her shoulder. 

     She is clasping her hands together and hiding her face. When everyone has quieted down Becca steps forward.  She puts her hands in front of her and testifies,

     Praise God.
     Praise Him.

     I Thank God for his protection and that he has brought us visitors.

     She moves her hands quickly over her face again and makes a squeaking noise.  She jumps back to her seat on the floor.

     Everyone claps for Becca and her testimony.

     I put my legs out in front of me and lean back onto my hands. Angela is next. She is 6.  She stands with her hands behind her and her head held high.

     She steps forward and begins her testimony in Luganda.
     She is cut off and instructed to speak English.

     Praise God.
     Praise Him.

     I praise God because Aunt Sonja and Uncle Caleb have visited us.

     She comes back and sits against my outstretched legs.

     Janet steps forward.  She is 13, maybe 14.  She stands confident and speaks clear English.

     Praise God Members.
     Praise Him.

     I Thanks God because, for me, I am alive.  There are some who are not alive today.  Some have died from diseases and accidents, but for me, I am alive. 

     Everyone claps for Janet and her testimony.  William shouts Hallelujah, Hallelujah and claps his hands together.

     Janet sits back down in her spot.  William takes off with the rest of the evening's service.

     I am sitting with my guitar in the room with the couches.  I am staring into the floor.  My guitar sits on my lap soundless.

     Who has a testimony to give? Come stand and speak.

     I want to stand and testify. I want to come forward. I want to stand like Becca with her shirt too big for her body.