Local Couple’s Journey to the World’s Poorest Country

It still seems surreal to me as I look back on our recent visit to Africa. We were sitting under a tent canopy, to keep us out of the hot sun, and there was a warm African wind whipping up gritty red clay dust devils all around us. Here we were 7,850 miles from home while small, freshly scrubbed Malawian children in their Sunday best cloths sat on our laps, playing with our cameras and taking pictures with our cell phones and asking for treats.

The thing that I couldn’t help but notice was that we came this far bringing school supplies, dresses and candy treats for these kids but most of them who were wearing shoes had no shoelaces. I couldn’t get over the fact that something as simple and inexpensive to us as Americans as shoe laces could be such a rare commodity, unbelievable.

I am 54, and I grew up and attended school in Fort Washington, one of 10 children; ours was a busy home. My father, Skip Coutts, was an excellent carpenter, working since the age of 17 for B. F. Gotwals in nearby Flourtown. His company was well known and respected throughout the region, and they focused most of their remodeling and restoration work in the elegant homes in Chestnut Hill. Dad would eventually take over ownership of the company and kept running it until the age of 80.

My mother, Bettie Coutts, had her hands full raising five sons and five daughters and caring for both grandmothers. Today’s perception of the envied “stay-at-home mom” has no comparison; hers was a tireless daily grind. Bettie’s days were hectic, but she relied heavily upon humor in order to maintain her sanity.

Thankfully, my mother is a natural comedian. It saved her on many occasions. Unlike the current trend in parental ambitions for their offspring, the finest schools followed by lucrative careers, my mother’s main hope and prayer for all her children was simply that they find happiness in life.

I am a general contractor and have been self-employed for the last six years. About 30% of my work...