Today I went to Rassandenyia for the first time since the pre-school reopening with a new teacher.  I was really pleased to see that it had been given a thorough spring clean inside and out, as well as a lick of fresh paint.  More importantly, the school was thriving with around 16 children attending that day, a committed teacher as well as an assistant.  One little boy stood out from the other children due to his boundless energy to jump and bounce and his complete lack of shyness around me.  The teacher informed me that despite being 3 or 4 years old, he had not yet developed any language skills although he could understand what was being said.  He quickly approached me with a ball and had begun a game of catch when I noticed blood running from beneath a rag tied around his forearm.  The teacher came over to assist, removing the rag to show a significant, partially healed and nasty looking wound.  Apparently he had burned himself on a saucepan at home and although he had received free treatment and antibiotics at the local Government hospital, his parents were too poor to afford bandages.  The lack of proper cover for the wound meant that even small movement cracked open the developing scab causing it to bleed and prolonging the healing process.  That dear little boy did not even whimper as the teacher cleaned the angry burn as best she could with the limited first aid kit, despite it causing him obvious pain.  It broke my heart to watch.  The Team has a comprehensive first aid kit which we keep at our accommodation, so I decided to return to fetch some fresh bandages.  When I got back to Rassandenyia, I sat the little boy on my knee and cuddled him as I gently gave the wound a proper clean with antiseptic, continually asking him “hari” (ok) to make sure I was not hurting too much before applying a proper bandage.  It was really humbling to think that this child could be so badly injured but that even a simple bandage was beyond the family’s means to afford.  Again, it served to put my own ankle injury sustained at the beginning of the trip into perspective.  Before he bounced off to join the other children outside, I gave the little boy a final hug, stroking his hair and telling him that he was a good boy.  To be honest, I think this was more for my own reassurance than his as he seemed totally nonplussed by the whole thing whilst the experience left me aching and saddened.  Before we finished for the day, I left several spare clean bandages with the teacher to enable fresh dressings to be applied regularly until he is fully healed.  I just hope that my tiny and humble gesture can in some small way make a difference to the little boy’s recovery.