"I continue to use your name for my blessing."

In broken English, a man I met two years ago this week in Rwanda writes to inform me that he appreciates the (very) small favors I can do for him, the latest being so simple to our American eyes: searching the Internet to find potential scholarship money for his wife, who wants to study law in a Rwandan school.

I wonder if he knows how great an honor I count it that he calls me friend.