Diary Entry

Tuesday, December 15, 2020
by Jeanne Thiel

December 17, 1975

There is nothing much to tell of the last three days. I have been sweating out my first case of dysentery. Tonight, I had the strength to get up, and walk across the street to the tea shop. I asked for a glass of hot water. Then I slipped a bouillon cube out of my pocket and into the glass. Its smell, its salty taste, its warmth, renewed my belief that I would survive.

Tom Acker, a Peace Corps director, gave me the bouillon as a going away present. I accepted it graciously but was thinking how much I despised bouillon.

How many gifts have I dismissed, never understanding their value – the home I came from, the schools I was able to attend, the overwhelming presents from God in this beautiful country, and the generosity of the people I live with? I have spent too much time wanting and not enough time accepting, using the gifts that are pouring down on me like the rain in a monsoon season.


“You will receive a full measure, a generous helping, poured into your hands – all that you can hold.” ~ Luke 6:38