April 16

"I am very angry because my uncle died," Jennifer told me today in a soft voice over the telephone. It was the older brother of her father. Her father, recall, was killed by rebels the same day they trapped Jennifer in her hut and set it on fire.

Jennifer's uncle did not die in the war. He had moved from the town of Kitgum, where the rest of Jennifer's family lives, to a neighboring district outside of the fighting, to escape the violence.

The circumstances of his death reached Jennifer in an e-mail: The uncle had gone into the bush to cut wood, which later would be burned and made into charcoal. He was killed by common thugs. It didn't seem to matter to Jennifer whether his death came at the hands of run-of-the-mill criminals or the rebels she knew too well: His death left Jennifer's family without a grown male figure.

"Now we don't have anyone in the family to look out for us," Jennifer said.

When Jennifer got the news, she went to Abitimo's room and cried. The tears must have been not only for a loved one lost, but for being so far away from her relatives when that loved one was lost. This absence during a family crisis was surely a first for Jennifer. As good as it is for Jennifer to get medical treatment here, it will be a lovely day for her when she can return to her family in Uganda.

April 9

Jennifer and Abitimo dropped by my house today with Sam, his wife and their baby, Sam. Big Sam is one of Abitimo's sons and she, along with Jennifer, will be staying with them for a while in their Delaware home. They stopped by briefly to pick up a computer case for Jennifer's new laptop and anti-virus software that my smart husband insisted on getting before Jennifer tries to connect to the Internet. They left quickly to get baby Sam back home before dinner.

April 8

The weather this morning was lousy. Cold. Rainy. Just enough wind to remind you of the cold and the rain should you happen to forget it for a moment. Still, plenty of people showed up for the Walk Against Hunger.

A reader, Elaine Garfinkle, teamed up with Project HOME to raise money, not only for hunger and homelessness in our own backyard, but to help a group of kids in northern Uganda known as night commuters. These are children who live in the war zone there, who try to avoid rebels abducting them by walking miles each night from their rural homes to sleep in the relative safety of more populous towns.

Garfinkle also has partnered with Abitimo to try to establish a night commuter shelter on the grounds of Abitimo's school in the town of Gulu. Abitimo and Jennifer showed up to do the mini-walk of two miles. Jennifer did not seem to mind the weather, though her stoicism might have been hiding her soggy discomfort.

People who had heard her life story went up to Jennifer and introduced themselves. Jennifer takes her celebrity in stride, in large part because Abitimo is determined not to let Jennifer get spoiled here in America. I admire that about Abitimo. She knows and values her Acholi culture. While she wants Jennifer to take advantage of opportunities in the United States, she does not want her to lose the qualities deemed important back home: humility, gratitude and hard work among them. As I watch this dynamic play out, it strikes me how U.S. culture so often glorifies the opposite qualities: hubris and an unappreciativeness that too often leads to a sense of privilege. What a better place our communities would be if the finer qualities won out more often.

April 5

I spoke to Abitimo on the phone yesterday. She said Jennifer loves working on the computer. That's very nice news.

April 2

Abitimo and Jennifer soon will be going to Delaware to stay with Abitimo's son Sam, his wife and their baby for an extended visit. Jennifer's tutors cannot make it out there weekly. Also, Abitimo wants to work with Jennifer to make sure the 15-year-old is on track to advance to the next grade at school in Uganda.

We thought it would be useful to get Jennifer a laptop computer, especially since she could take it back with her to Uganda. I swapped e-mails with a couple of computer stores in the Ugandan capital of Kampala, to see which brand would be easiest to fix if it broke. The answer, in case you move to Uganda: Toshiba. That's what we got.

A reader named Sue Fernandez, who read Jennifer's story and met her once, phoned me a couple of times to offer help. When I called and told her about the plan to get Jennifer a laptop, she and her husband enthusiastically agreed to pay for it, software and a case. I am continually amazed by people's generosity and compassion - not pity - toward Jennifer.

This afternoon, my patient, engineer husband Tim gave Abitimo and a sleepy Jennifer a lesson on computer basics. They tried out the educational software we had gotten. Abitimo favored one on phonics and reading.