Amina looked at the sky through a hole in the tent, saw the noonday fireball, and knew that-again today-there would be no relief from the heat and the dust and the ravages of famine. She heard her mother coming home, talking with the other women who had left before sunup to search for work in exchange for food. Amina would have loved to run to greet her mother, Saty, but her little legs were too weak, so she waited patiently for her mother to come to her.

Seeing her daughter, Saty's face lit up. "Hello my little one," she said as she placed a bundle by the folded blanket on the floor on which Amina lay. "How do you feel today?"

"I'm fine," Amina replied. But Saty could see Amina was far from fine; her arms and legs were skin and bones and her cheeks were sunken. Saty unwrapped her day's pay. "Come now Amina, try to eat some of this food. It will help your belly to stop aching. I know this food is not what you are used to, but this is all there is."

Amina slowly ate the soup. "I pretended it was a yam like you used to make for our tribe, Mommy, then it goes down easier."

"Good girl," Saty murmured as she rocked the frail child in her arms until she fell asleep. "How much longer will this last?" Saty wondered as she sat quietly. What is to become of us?" She couldn't remember the last time it had rained.

As she gazed at her sleeping child, Saty recalled the past two years of famine, the endless wandering of the nomadic tribe to which she belonged as they desperately searched for water so there would be grass for the animals and grain for the people. But all they had found were dry wells and fields of useless wild grass. The animals starved long ago, followed by many of the tribesmen, including Saty's husband and son. When Saty's tribe arrived in Gao, a village in Mali in West Central Africa, there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, so they stayed. The tribe set up their huts on the outskirts of Gao and, along with members of many other tribes who had also set up camps near Gao, tried to get work to at least feed the remaining children.

The next morning, as the women gathered for another trip into Gao, something was different. A huge cloud of dust was on the horizon, moving toward them. From the cloud a long truck with a red cross on the side appeared. Saty stared in awe as the truck wound its way toward the village. Along the way, it stopped long enough for a local volunteer interpreter to climb from the truck's cab. Saty's heart raced as the interpreter explained that the truck contained tons of food, the first shipment from the International Red Cross. Then she saw other trucks coming down the road, carrying doctors, nurses, tents and equipment.

That evening, Saty ran from work to talk to Amina. "Tomorrow we go into Gao and you will get food, Amina. You will get food every day, and soon you'll be feeling well and playing with the other children." Amina looked at her mother and tried to smile, but she was so tired, she nodded off to sleep.

When Saty and Amina got to Gao early the next morning, there were already long lines. Saty hugged her sleeping child as she gazed around at all the activity. Many of the children were scared and crying. They clutched their mothers because this was the first time they had seen white people. No matter how much explaining was done about the white Red Cross delegates, the children just proceeded to cry louder.

Scales had been set up with sling seats so the children could be weighed. The thinnest children were so fragile they had to be very carefully lifted on and off the scales. Soon it was Amina's turn. A smiling Red Cross nurse sat at a table in the tent, with an interpreter at her side. "Please tell me your name, and the name of this darling little girl. I also need to know her age and where you live."

As Saty answered the questions, Amina gazed all around her, looking at the doctors and nurses, their equipment and what was happening to other children.

Saty and the nurse gently lifted Amina onto the scale. Although she was almost six years old, she weighed just 50 pounds. "Amina is going to be just fine," said the nurse through the interpreter. "We have to get some nourishing food into her, and she has to have a tablet each day that contains nutrients to help build up her bones. She needs to come back once a week so we can check how she's doing and record her progress."

Saty gazed lovingly at Amina as she lifted her off the scale. Cradling Amina to her, Saty said, "You've been a very good girl. I know you were scared, but you tried not to show it. I'm proud of you, dear."

Now, another Red Cross volunteer greeted Saty and Amina and walked with them to a nearby food tent. An ID bracelet was placed on Amina's wrist, and her name was added to a roster. The volunteer had seen so many wrists like Amina's today-no bigger than a walnut-belonging to a weak and listless child. He told Saty that Amina needed to show the bracelet each day as she got her allotted food.

Waiting in line, Saty noticed the large kettles cooking over an open fire. She noticed the African women working beside people with red crosses on their clothes, helping to prepare the food.

Large brown bags of sugar and rice, also with red crosses, were piled near the kitchen area. Cans of oil and milk were stacked next to them. There was also water, which the children waiting in line to be fed were sipping from metal cups.

Saty found Amina a place to sit in the tent; then she brought the food. While feeding Amina, Saty watched the cooking going on outside. The interpreter circulated through the tent, making sure the villagers understood that the children should eat as much of the food as they could. Noticing Saty's interest in the cooking process, the interpreter explained, "Native workers run the centers. They are taught how to prepare the food and how to keep track of supplies. Native women are hired to work with the Red Cross delegates; they receive food in return for their work."

"Could I do this too?" asked Saty as her face became animated, "Will someone teach me how to cook like this? Will there be enough food for everyone? How early do you start in the morning?" She was so excited she hardly waited for an answer before firing off the next question.

"Come with me," the interpreter said. Saty was introduced to Emil, the Red Cross delegate who had trained the cooks, and who was now finishing paperwork at his portable desk set up under a big shady tree.

"Emil, this is Saty. She wants to work at the food center. Do you think you could find work for her?" Saty was so excited; she kept pointing to the cooking area and gesturing, pointing to herself, than pretending to stir a pot, and then pointing toward the cooking area again.

Emil saw how eager Saty was to help out. He brought her over to the cooking area and soon arrangements had been made for Saty to start work.

"Your daughter can stay with the other children while you are at work," Emil explained to Saty through the interpreter. "One of our delegates is in charge of the care of children up to six years old, and I'm sure she will care for Amina during the day."

When Saty understood that not only would she be able to work, but that Amina could come with her and be cared for during the day, she was pleased. She thanked them all and headed back to find Amina. When Saty saw Amina, she hurried to her, quickly explaining their good fortune. "My job is to cook the food," Saty told Amina. "You will be in a nearby tent where you can play with many other children. There, your job is to eat all your food every day so you can get strong and healthy." Saty's excitement was contagious-for the first time in months, Amina became animated, hugging her mother.

Saty couldn't wait to get back to the camp to tell the others that she had found work. Now she could help herself and her daughter. She could help the other people in her tribe by bringing home food from the food center.

Saty and Amina arrived at the food and medical center early the following morning. The head volunteer was from the American Red Cross. Her name was Betty, and she was there to welcome them. Betty looked short standing next

to Saty-she was small-boned, with soft brown hair curling around her petite oval face. Her huge brown eyes darted everywhere and took in everything. A hint of a smile was always evident, and to Saty, Betty's voice sounded like tinkling bells.

Betty took Amina and Saty to the children's tent, where the older children were either lying or sitting on pallets. Saty placed Amina near another little girl named Salma. Salma had been found along the side of the road by another tribe, who brought her to the center. She had been so thin that the nurses didn't think she would survive. Even now, almost two weeks later, Salma looked like a two-year-old baby, even though she was around six years old. Salma lay curled up, and was just beginning to look at her surroundings.

Saty gazed at the little girl, remembering all the children her tribe had lost along the way. "I'm going to try very hard to help this little orphan survive," she promised herself. Saty smiled at Salma, turned and kissed Amina, and assured her that she would return at midday. Then Saty left the tent for her first day of work.

Betty looked at Amina's thin frail body, her soulful eyes, her sunken cheeks, the thin skin that stretched tightly over her skinny legs and arms. Betty remembered how unprepared she was when she arrived two weeks ago from the United States and saw for the first time the conditions of the children now under her care.

"I can't believe how bad things are," Betty wrote as she tried to capture the situation in a letter back to her son in the United States.

"I was unprepared to see so many children lying on pallets, too weak to move or feed themselves. So many orphans and displaced children. It is overwhelming! Their sad faces haunt my dreams every night. You can see the hunger and despair in their eyes. It is as if life is too difficult for them to ever smile. One of the Mali volunteers keeps reminding me that these children have been through a lot. Many of them have seen their own relatives and playmates die of starvation. Life has been very difficult for these young ones. They don't feel there is anything to smile about."

Betty noticed that Salma and Amina kept looking at each other, but both were too weak to do anything else. "When these two are better, they will become fast friends," she thought.

Now life was very different for Saty and Amina. Saty walked proudly into the Red Cross food center each day. She learned how to correctly mix the rice and milk to make a thin cereal, enrich it with sugar and oil, and how to stir it over the fire. Saty was shown how to check the stockpiles of supplies to be sure there were enough. Her proudest moment came at the end of each day. On their way back to their camp, Saty would join the other women carrying food in baskets high on their heads. The women would share their food with the whole tribe. Even the little girls with their serious faces were concentrating on carrying bundles on their heads, just like their mothers.

Saty took time each day to visit Amina. She helped feed Amina, her friend Salma and some of the other children who were still too weak to feed

themselves. Saty would sit by Amina and Salma and encourage them to eat their hot cereal by comparing the amounts each had eaten. Soon it because a game to see who could eat the most. "Salma ate almost all her cereal today," Amina nodded approvingly to her mother. "And I did too. I feel so much stronger."

Saty was pleased to see how their skinny little bodies were beginning to fill out. In less than ten days both were strong enough to feed themselves. Salma was very shy and almost fearful of everything around her. Sensing this, Amina stayed close by to calm her fears.

Betty always visited Saty when Saty came to see Amina. The two women soon found ways to talk to each other with some words and lots of hand gestures. Betty became very fond of this tall, elegant woman with beautiful ebony skin and bright intelligent eyes.

In a letter to her son, Betty wrote, "We have a woman named Saty who comes each day to help feed her daughter and some of the other children. She has been through some very hard times; I can see it in her eyes. But she never complains and is always willing to help out. She also works in the cooking area, preparing the children's food. We have become good friends and we are learning each other's language. She has such patience with me . . . you know how I am with languages! However, we are progressing quite nicely."

"The children are all putting on weight now, and many of those who were once too weak to do so are now up and walking about. We are still worried about them, however-there are no expressions on their faces," Betty wrote to her son. "They are just beginning to go outside, and they try to talk to each other, but there is no laughter, not even a smile. They stand or sit close to the tent, but make no effort to run around or play. Our other problem is that many of the children are not eating all their allotted food and this is slowing their progress."

Betty's letter continued, "We talked about these problems at our last meeting and decided that if we could get some rubber balls to toss around, and some rope and boards to make swings, we could encourage the children to play. Then, we would reward them with playtime if they eat all their food. How about it? Do you think it will work? Would you send me some brightly colored balls? I think we can manage the materials for the swings."

Some days later, Betty walked into the children's area with a package under her arm. Betty waved for the children to come to her. She didn't need her interpreter, because she knew she could teach them to play ball without words.

The children began to walk slowly towards her. They saw she had something in her hand. What could it be? As they got closer, Betty tossed the ball to them. They backed away with fear and wonder on their faces.

"Oh no!" thought Betty. "They're afraid of the ball. They've never seen one before. I'll have to think of another way to help them understand."

Betty picked up the ball and held it in her hand for a few minutes. Then she began moving it from one hand to the other. She walked over to the oldest boy and held the ball out for him to see. He put his hand out towards the ball, his eyes as large as saucers. Still, he wasn't sure if he should touch it. Betty stood there patiently while the other children began crowding around. Suddenly, with a big smile on her face, she tossed it up in the air and caught it. She did this several times, once letting the ball drop and bounce back to her. She held the ball out again to see if anyone would take it.

The children were all talking and gesturing to each other, trying to decide what to do. Finally one child took the ball, turned it over and over in his hands, looked at it and decided to hand it to the next child. Gradually it was passed from one to the other until everyone had examined the ball. As one child was holding it, the ball fell to the ground. It bounced a little. What a surprise! The ball was quickly retrieved and the passing from child to child continued. When the group was finally satisfied that the ball would not hurt them, they began tossing it around. They enlarged their circle. When the ball dropped, they would scramble for it and whoever retrieved it would throw it to the next child.

Betty gave them more balls to play with. Soon the children split into smaller groups. Some were bouncing balls up and down, others were tossing balls to each other. Betty smiled when she saw two little boys rolling a ball back and forth.

This was the first time she had seen any of the children actually playing, or even moving around. After about an hour Betty gathered all the balls and headed back to the tent. The next day, the children asked about the balls. Betty told them that after they had eaten all their food, they could play. Eating all the food allotted was important for each undernourished child. But, many of them would not eat their food because it was so different from the food they were used to, and these children were not getting stronger. However, because they were now able to play with the balls and with the other children, their food was soon finished, and more and more children became strong enough to come to play.

After a few days Betty introduced the children to Emil, the delegate responsible for the food tents. Emil had found some rope and short boards; he was using these supplies to hang a couple swings in trees. A small group of children stood and watched every move Emil made as he put up the swings. Soon more and more children came to watch. When Emil had constructed the swings, he beckoned the children to come closer. No one moved. Then he saw Amina. He lifted her onto the swing and gently pushed. Amina held on for dear life, with a look of terror on her face. As the swing glided back and forth, she realized she was not going to fall and she relaxed. Soon the children were crowding around, taking turns swinging and pushing each other. Even frail Salma allowed Amina to help her into the swing and gently push her.

This time the children were smart enough to realize that the same rule applied to the swings as to the balls-eat all your food and you can play.

Amina couldn't wait to tell her mother about the swings and how she had been the brave one who was the first to try them. Saty listened as Amina told all about Emil and how he hung the swings. "And I'm going to make sure Salma gets her turn on the swing every day," Amina solemnly concluded.

"How different this is from our old way of life," thought Saty. "These children will have very different memories about this famine."

Each day Betty could see the children gaining weight and strength. The constant crying stopped, children were able to sit up and look around and little bodies began to fill out, looking less like skeletons. Many children began sleeping through the night without nightmares, knowing there would be someone there with food for them in the morning.

Every day Amina made sure Salma had a ride on the swing. One afternoon Betty and other Red Cross volunteers watched the two girls as they played. "Have you noticed the children never smile?" Betty asked, "Even when they are racing for the swings or throwing the ball, there is no laughter or smiles. They are so solemn."

"They are starting to appear healthy physically," replied another delegate, "but not mentally. Do you think that they still remember the heartache they went through?

In addition to nearly starving to death, many of them have lost their mothers, their fathers, and their brothers and sisters. Or maybe things are so different here that they can't get used to the changes. Maybe they just feel that they have nothing to smile about."

"Maybe," said Betty, "but we have to do something to bring joy back into their lives. We have to give them a reason to smile again."

Betty spent many hours trying to think of some way she could help the children. Then one day, while reading a Mother's Day card from her son, she had an answer. A celebration had been planned for World Red Cross Day on May 8. Betty would talk to her fellow delegates about celebrating Mothers' Day as well.

"Here's my idea," explained Betty. "We could choose some of the children who are healthy enough, make little bu-bus (gowns) for them and they could perform in a special celebration for all the mothers in Gao and the surrounding camps.

Other delegates nodded in agreement. And the planning began. Delegates decided to sew the bu-bus from some material they had in storage, and to hold the celebration in one of the larger tents. Next the children had to be chosen to be in the dance. Each volunteer selected one child; Amina and Salma were among them.

When all the dancers had been selected, Betty gathered them together and said, "We only have a week to get ready for the celebration. We want you to practice the songs and dances you used to perform before the famine came."

Even with the help of interpreters, the children were confused. There were so many tribes, so many songs, so many dances. And it had been so long ago that

any of them had heard a song. The children stood there, not making a move. Betty got one of the local volunteers to start dancing and signing. Waving her arms, the children were invited to join in. First a few of the older children started to dance, then a few more and a few more, until everyone had the idea.

That evening Betty found a big roll of fabric, and a team formed to make the bu-bus. The women rounded up as many sewing machines as they could find, and sewed the rest by hand. One by one the children's measurements were taken. They were brought back in to try on the partially sewn bu-bus for size. Sometimes it was hard to get a child to try on the gown because they were too busy swinging or playing ball.

During the next few days, as the garments were being finished, the children practiced their dances. Watching, Betty thought, "There's no joy in their movements. If only they could forget for a few minutes and smile. It breaks my heart to see them so solemn."

Finally the big day came-dawning bright and clear. Everyone in Gao and the surrounding camps had been invited to the performance, set for midafternoon. The dancers had been told to meet with Betty in the children's tent as soon as they finished eating. The children were quieter than usual as the delegates helped them put on their bu-bus. Scared, the children held each other's hands, assuring each other that everything would be all right. They all sat cross-legged on the floor waiting for a signal to start.

People crowded under the tent, with all the children who were still too weak to play placed on pallets in a circle around the dance floor. All the national and international Red Cross delegates were there, as well as the local volunteers. This was a huge celebration.

Amina, Salma and all the other dancers filed in. But they didn't dance. They just stood and looked around at all the people. The people stared back, admiring the children in the beautiful new bu-bus.

"Why aren't they dancing?" questioned Betty.

"Maybe they're too scared," replied Emil. "Let's start singing one of their songs and maybe they'll start to sing and dance too." They started to sing and clap their hands. Adults in the audience started to clap their hands, too. Soon all the children in their specially made bu-bus were dancing and singing.

More and more people started to clap their hands. Then they began tapping their feet and swaying with the music. The solemn faces on the children began to soften; they became livelier as the dancing proceeded. The children actually looked like they were enjoying themselves.

"Look!" cried Emil. "Look at those faces!"

"Oh my!" shouted Betty, "They're smiling, no — they're laughing. This is wonderful!"

For the first time since the famine had come, the children danced and laughed and had a great time. One by one, Amina and the other dancers began smiling from ear to ear and chanting at

the top of their lungs. It was one big joyous group. Gone were the vacant stares, the big sad eyes and the looks of fear. This was a truly joyful celebration for all the mothers.

There was much to be thankful for on this Mothers' Day celebration. The children were well on their way to recovery now, both physically and mentally. The Red Cross had helped the residents of Gao and the members of the nomadic tribes camped near the village recover from the terrible famine. Until the rains came and people could get back to the way their lives had been, the Red Cross would be there to help.

That night Saty and Amina sat together, talking about the exciting events of the day. Amina was telling her mother what each child's mood was when the dance began and how gradually each child started to really enjoy the celebration. "Selma was so funny," giggled Amina. "When the dance was over, she wouldn't let them take off her bu-bu. She wore it back to her tent."

"Oh, mama, I'll never forget this day," sighed Amina. "It was so much fun. And I'm so glad you danced with us, too."

Saty hugged her daughter and agreed that this was surely a very special day that they would always remember. She reminded Amina that they owed many thanks to the Red Cross and all the volunteers who helped, especially Betty, Emil, and all the others who took the time to help bring joy into the children's lives. Soon they were both fast asleep, dreaming of the good times to come when their tribe was back together again and wandering over the land.

Now, even today in Gao, the people celebrate World Red Cross Day each year as a way to thank Betty and the Red Cross for giving them back their sense of happiness and well-being. And wherever Saty is with her nomadic tribe, she gathers her daughter, Amina, her friend Salma whom Amina insisted come with them, and the other children, and tells them the story of how Betty's Mother's Day celebration taught the children to be happy again.