In Search of TP

When the coronavirus first made its appearance in the United States, I was amazed that the toilet paper began disappearing off the shelves.  Why were people hoarding tp?  Stores began limiting how much an individual could buy but the shelves were still emptying.  I wasn’t worried because we had a huge package of double rolls.  Surely it would last until the supply was back to normal.  I would check the shelves each time I was in the grocery store—still no tp.  Once everything started shutting down, my husband and I made the decision not to enter a store of any kind because we are both high risk.

It’s been a couple of months since toilet paper became scarce and still it is hard to get.  Where is it?  We have a factory that manufactures toilet paper in our state yet we still have empty shelves.  We have been ordering groceries online for weeks.  We can order everything but toilet paper.  Either you can’t order it at all or you order it but it is not in your order when you pick it up.

Earlier this week we were down to our last two rolls.  We placed an order with a grocery store around 4 p.m. with pickup at 9:00 the next morning (a designated senior pickup time).  I ordered tp and then added additional items just so I could make the minimum amount.  When my husband went to pick up the order there was no tp.  What do we do?

I consider myself an independent person, accustomed to taking care of myself.  And we couldn’t get something as basic as tp.  I had been asking people for tips about getting toilet paper but everybody was going into a store to buy it.  So I posted in a COVID-19 mutual aid Facebook group for my county and asked if anyone knew how to order tp for pickup.  Immediately, two women offered to buy it for me.  (Others made suggestions that I had already tried.)  I contacted the first woman for help.  By the end of the day there was a large package of tp on my front porch.  She wouldn’t accept any payment for it.  In addition, she said to let her know if we need anything else.  While we have seen some selfish behavior lately, I am totally amazed at the people who are going out of their way to help others.  I wish I could do this too, but I can’t.  I am not used to being the recipient of such kindness from a stranger.  I am so grateful.  (And I continue to get offers for toilet paper.)

Found Poetry

It's poetry month and a friend posted a fun exercise using "found" poetry. I went through catalogs, magazines, and ads and cut out words and phrases that struck me. I assembled them into the poems you see below.  Try it yourself!

Easter Lament

Yesterday was Easter.

But where was the resurrection?

I couldn’t find the joy.

The churches were all closed

While members isolate at home

Trying to avoid the virus among us.

Service were held online

But many churches struggle with it.

I found some lovely Easter music

But it was hard to feel connected.

Outside the sun was shining

But a cold wind was blowing.

The news is all coronavirus

And it gets bleaker every day.

Easter and spring are a time of rebirth.

The flowers are beginning to bloom.

But where is the hope?

I realize that we have to wait.

We are not good at waiting.

I am not good at waiting.

I struggle to keep emotions in check

But I cannot do it.

I realize that this is okay.

We will not be the same after this.

What am I learning?

How can I help?

God is with us now

And we will find joy again.

Our New Reality

It’s been nearly a month since our lives were upended by the coronavirus.  Usually, we only leave our house to go on errands that don’t require us to get out of the car or to go on walks or bike rides. 

We are learning to get what we need by doing pickups and deliveries.  Grocery pickups take a bit of planning and we are still trying to figure it out.  Neither my husband nor I have stepped into a store for weeks.  Too risky!  Grocery orders with one store are a week out and you can’t order farther out than that.  However, you can add to your order up to the night before pickup.  A second store has more pickup availability but we didn’t get bread in our last order.  You can’t just order a few things either.  It looks like we’ll go without some items.  I needed refills for some of my medications but my pharmacy doesn’t have a drive-up window.  After several phone calls, they told me I’d receive the medications via Fed-Ex; they arrived today.  This was the first time they’d done this so they weren’t sure how well it would work.

Amazon will not deliver everything in two days right now; there are other priorities.  However, they did deliver birthday gifts to my mom for her 90^th birthday!  We also received a backup drive and ink for our computer and printer.  We have ordered take-out meals a couple of times and will continue to do it.  It is a good way to support local restaurants plus it adds something special to our days which are so much the same.

It seems like everyone is using Zoom right now.  I had used it before for meetings with various groups but now it’s a regular thing.  Our church used it the past two Sundays for worship services with limited success.  This was frustrating but there are limitations to the technology plus our church needs some technological upgrades.  Our church also began Zoom gatherings with the pastor on Tuesdays just to check in with each other.  This has been great.  It is so good to see faces.  A few days ago there was a meeting with zoo staff and volunteers.  We learned what is happening at the zoo and with each other.  In a couple days my tap class will try doing a class via Zoom.  That should be interesting.

I thought that I would have a really clean and organized house at this point but that just hasn’t happened.  I have learned that I am not alone.  We get up late and move slowly.  There just isn’t a lot of motivation.  However, the weather is just starting to get warmer here in Idaho (71 degrees F today).  The sun is out so I am eager to get out and work in the yard.  With an acre there is a lot of cleaning up to do.  It still freezes at night so we can’t plant much right now.

While my life is limited, I have added some things.  I am spending more time sitting quietly—reading, writing, and sometimes doing something artistic.  I have talked on the phone more often to family and friends.  I ordered stamps online so I can send out more notes and cards.

I think we will be stuck at home at least another month so I am trying to make the best of it.  I know that I am privileged to be able to do this.  I am grateful for all the people who go to work every day to serve us.  Our world will not be the same when this pandemic is past.  I hope it will change for the better.

Idaho Earthquake Haiku

The shaking began

And we watched our lamps swaying

Wow, it’s an earthquake!

As we shook I thought

A pandemic’s not enough?

Will locusts come too?

Our governor just signed

Two anti-transgender bills

Is this what God thinks?

I Am Strong But. . .

I am strong

But not so much today

I grieve and I cry

For my pain and others’

There is no control

But love still exists

God is in our tears

It’s the Small Things

My parents’ lives have become quite limited.  My 92-year-old dad can no longer stand or walk.  He gets around the house in a wheelchair, but he is unable to transfer into a car.  To go anywhere he must have a van driver take him.  So, for the past year he has mostly been at home.  My dad enjoys looking out the window and watching the deer and turkeys in their yard.  My mom will be 90 in a few days.  She cares for him with the help of several aides and other medical people who come to the house.  She doesn’t get out much either.

Recently, she described their early morning ritual.  My dad sleeps in a hospital bed in the guest room and my mom sleeps in their bedroom at the other end of the house.  I bought them an intercom so they could communicate more easily.  My mom told me that she gets up around 7:30 a.m. and carries the intercom into the bathroom with her.  Before long she hears my dad’s voice over the intercom. “Honey, it’s 8:00 o’clock.”  She tells him she’s coming soon.  Sometimes they joke.  She laughs when she tells me this; she enjoys these conversations.  It will be sad, she says, when one of them is gone.

Now that I too am stuck at home, I am beginning to notice the little things in my life that make me smile.

We are not in a hurry in the morning so I have time to snuggle with my husband in bed.  After nearly 40 years of marriage, I realize that I tend to take some things for granted.

Our cats are endlessly entertaining.  Our Siamese mix is very affectionate but she doesn’t like me to pick her up; she wants to be in control.  She will sit and just stare at me with her bright blue eyes, watching my every move.  Our black cat is an explorer who thoroughly investigates the yard and our indoor cupboards.  When she wants attention, she stands in front of my computer monitor, blocking my view, and then flops down on the desk, expecting me to pet her.

We have been taking lots of walks along the river with our dog.  She gets so excited, especially when she sees other dogs; sometimes she actually gets to sniff them.  When she spots a squirrel she goes on high alert, eager to chase it.  As she walks along she periodically turns around to look at us with a big dog smile.

The arrival of spring has brought new delights.  The trees are just beginning to bud out.  The early spring flowers brighten an otherwise dead landscape.  The sunshine is welcome as it warms my stiff body and shines off the water and through the tree blossoms.  This morning as I was finishing my breakfast, I heard the calls of chickadees.  I looked out our sliding glass door and spotted a chickadee on our birdhouse.  He looked inside and then just sat there for a while.  I could hear another chickadee calling.  A while after he left, another one landed on the house.  I think they are house hunting!  I hope they settle in soon.

Often it is the small things in our lives that keep us going.  We just need to take the time to appreciate them. 

Darkness

                                       

                                          An icy wind blows

                                          The sun shines yet it is dark

                                          Learn to live with it

                                          I want to find joy

                                          But must sit in the darkness

                                          My God dwells there too

Sitting in the Stillness

I am not accustomed to staying at home; people describe me as busy.  Now there is nowhere to go.  Aside from a daily walk, weather permitting, we are mostly at home.

We turn on the radio when we wake up in the morning and listen to the news.  It is all about the coronavirus.  While this important, after a while it is too much and we turn it off.  It is quiet.

I am learning to appreciate the stillness of the morning.  I look out the window onto our street and there is no activity except for an occasional walker.  My husband is in another room.  I am alone with my thoughts.

Slowly I am beginning to adjust to this lack of activity, this stillness.  What can I learn from it?  I see an opportunity for growth.  Nothing is pulling me out of my seat, urging me to get going.  I can just sit without guilt—thinking, contemplating, praying.

During my devotional time I read and I pray.  I pour out my concerns and then move to silence, listening.  In that space I try to be open to God.  I don’t believe that God will magically fix everything for us.  I look for connection—for comfort, wisdom, and courage.  I am aware of my oneness with people all over the world.  We struggle together in this pandemic.  Today I think about all of the people packed together in refugee camps and the tears come.

As I look out my window, the sun peeks out through the clouds.  I will sit in stillness a bit longer, and then perhaps I’ll put on some music, another gift.

One Step at a Time

Just ten days ago my life was normal.  My calendar was full of activities.  We were aware of the advance of the coronavirus but it had not affected us here in Idaho.  And then our first case of the virus was confirmed.  After a few days, events and activities started canceling.  Some facilities, such as gyms, shuttered their doors.  My calendar is covered with Wite-Out; it is essentially blank.  Every day something else is closed and there are new warnings.

My husband and I are both retired but I am an active person, not used to staying home.  But that is what we are doing.  We are considered to be in the high risk category because of our ages and my health concerns.  We haven’t gone to the store for a few days; we are contemplating ordering groceries online and doing takeout.  Each day we have gone out for walks but we keep our distance from other people.  It is a strange reality.

I know we are privileged people in the midst of this pandemic.  We have an income and a home with a yard.  We are not lacking for any material thing.  Our daughters and spouses can work from home and are comfortable.  I am aware that many others throughout the world are not so lucky.

It is disconcerting to have our world turned upside down in such a short period of time.  We are uncertain about what each day will bring.  The news is all about the coronavirus.  We can’t escape it.  How long will this last?  We can’t make plans.

Perhaps the hardest part is the physical separation from other people.  We have rapidly gone from social distancing to near total isolation from other people.  Today is Sunday and many of us are missing our church services.  Some of them have gone online but it isn’t the same.  We miss the human contact.

How do we live in these difficult times?  I have close family members facing medical issues, anxiety, and other problems.  Life is overwhelming.  Our circumstances can change from day to day.  I tell them to take one step at a time.  It’s all we can do.  We can’t plan ahead.

I am trying to take my own advice.  As always I make a daily list but now I focus on self-care, home projects, connecting with community online, and calling people who need attention.  What can I do to be helpful from home?  It’s a learning process.  This is our new reality.

One step at a time.

Can I Still Dream?

Yesterday the clouds hung low and it rained steadily most of the day.  It was damp and dreary.  My arthritic body hurt all over.  My black cat crawled under the quilt on our bed and remained there for hours.  I wanted to crawl in with her.  I think the weather reflected the mood in our country, mine included.

Last week during our Bible study where we discuss the topic for the upcoming Sunday, our pastor asked us what our dreams are.  When she got to me, I was stumped.  I had nothing.  The pastor was surprised.  “What about Add the Words?”  I am one of many people who have worked for years for equality for LGBTQ people in our state.  This year I am once again organizing prayer vigils in front of the Capitol.  As I stood there for the first time in 2020 I realized that I was standing there for the seventh year, apparently no closer to the goal.  In fact, we are preparing ourselves for some nasty, punitive anti-trans bills to surface.  I told my pastor it isn’t a dream but I am doing it because it is the right thing to do.

To be honest, I tend to be someone who lives in the present.  I don’t dwell on the past and I don’t look too far into the future.  Dreams?  Oh, I had them when I was young.  Like most girls of my day, I expected to get married and have kids.  And I did.  I also expected to go to college and have a career.  When I was in junior high I heard “you can be anything you want!” but I heard “teacher, nurse, secretary” whispered in the background.  I got my degree and I worked, but I never had the career.

These questions about dreams have made me wonder if I can still dream.  I am an organizer, a planner but do I dream?  I don’t plan anything more than a year out.  I wonder if other people my age have dreams.

I have hopes for my daughters and families but I leave the dreaming for them.  And now I wonder if in the midst of the daily craziness of their lives and the negativity in our country, do they dream?  My hope for them is that they do.

And me?  I don’t know and it makes me sad.  While I usually try to leave my posts on a positive note, I can’t this time.  I will contemplate what it would take for me to start dreaming again. . .

Looking Forward

On this first day of 2020, the first day of a new decade, I look forward with hope in my heart.  Yes, there are many reasons to be discouraged but the human race is resilient, full of creativity, and capable of great love.

What do I hope for this year and beyond?

Ø  Let’s take climate change seriously and take immediate steps to turn this impending disaster around.  This must be a world-wide effort.

Ø  There are so many refugees seeking a safe haven and a better life, not only at our borders, but around the world.  We need compassionate solutions, treating these people as fellow human beings.

Ø  I hope that we can come together as a country.  I want truth and honesty to be valued again.  Let our Constitution be upheld, preserving our republic.  I want new leadership.  I hope that we can learn to respect and be kind to those who are different from us. 

Ø  I hope that my church denomination, the United Methodist Church, will become inclusive, treating all people equally.  If this is not possible, I hope for an amicable split.

Ø  My state’s legislature convenes next week.  I hope for more kindness and understanding from our legislators.  I hope that they will finally “Add the Words” (sexual orientation and gender identity to our human rights act).  I want them to allow women to control their own reproductive systems.  I hope for more money for education.  Let’s get rid of the “faith healing” law that allows parents to ignore medical treatment for children with preventable diseases.  

Ø  Personally, I hope for a lovely wedding for my younger daughter and her fiancé and for a wonderful future together.  I hope for a healthy new grandchild.  I wish for stability and good days for my elderly parents.  For my own life I hope for balance and wisdom.

Finally, I hope that more people will understand that we are all connected and that we must learn to live in harmony with each other and all creation.  I hold hope that love will eventually prevail.

Reflections on New Year’s Eve

In less than 2 hours the new year will arrive.  2020!  Hard to believe.  I am sitting on the couch listening to a concert of Stephen Sondheim music on PBS.  Such wonderful music.

Tonight I posted my Christmas photos on Facebook so my mind is on that time.  We drove to California to spend Christmas with my parents.  Since my dad’s hospital bed is now in the guest room, my husband and I stayed at a nearby Airbnb.  However, we spent most of each day at my parents’ home.

My 92-year-old dad has improved since I last saw him.  An aide (and sometimes my mom) gets him up every day and he makes his way around the house in his wheelchair.  He spends hours looking out the front window and enjoys the visits from deer and numerous turkeys.  Music plays on their old stereo most of the day.  When the mail arrives, my mom hands it and a letter opener to my dad and he opens and sorts it.

My mom has lost a lot of weight and she didn’t sit a lot while we were there.  She doesn’t want to admit that she is nearly 90 and laments what she can’t do.  They have lots of help from the VA and others, including my sisters.  I helped them get started with Meals on Wheels which is a tremendous help.

I forced discussions on the future which my mom doesn’t want to face.  They want to stay in their hope which I totally understand.  They want to be together.  Their family wants them to be safe.  This is so hard, watching parents decline.  My dad wants to walk again and he was getting there, relearning to use his walker with the help of a physical therapist.  But now his leg hurts and he can’t stand up.  He wants to be able to get in a car and go places. 

Clearly my parents are not done with this life.  They are mentally competent and make their own decisions.  One day I was going out shopping with my mom and sister.  I asked my dad if I could get something for him to give mom.  He said yes—a special gift and a card.  I found some lovely earrings.  Later, I gave him a card to sign and let him pick out the gift bag.  He asked how much he owed me.  A couple days later he told me there was an envelope on the table for me—it had the exact amount of cash inside.  My dad nods off a lot, but when he is fully awake, his mind is sharp.

I also bought my mom’s gift for my dad.  Although she still drives, it is hard for her to get out because she can’t leave him alone.  My dad wanted a large clock on the wall near is bed so that is what we bought.

I watched how my mom tenderly cares for my dad, putting his needs first.  He doesn’t take this for granted—he thanks her.  One night we were sitting in the living room.  The aide had put my dad to bed and left.  My mom was in the bedroom saying goodnight.  I heard “I love you” and “I love you too.”  My parents are still teaching me about love.

This is what is on my mind on this last day of the year.  Yes, of course there are other things I could reflect on.  Our country is in turmoil and my international church is about to split.  We are so divided.  I am ready to say goodbye to 2019.  I hope that 2020 is a better year for my family, my church, country, and our world.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I have posted very little this year.  Why?  I guess it is because I have been overwhelmed by life and I just couldn’t find the words.  I did try to write a couple times but then I couldn’t share it.

Life can be crazy sometimes and all we can do is cope.  A little over a year ago my son-in-law disappeared for a few days.  When he returned we learned he’d had a mental break.  I flew to North Carolina to be with my daughter and grandson during this storm in their lives—and experienced an actual hurricane while there.  I flew back home while still sick with a 24-hour flu.

We spent Thanksgiving with my aging parents in California then flew to North Carolina to be with our daughters for Christmas.  Prior to leaving home we learned that my husband’s 95-year-old mother had suffered a brain bleed.  We received news of her death just after arriving at our daughter’s house.  A few days after that my mom called say my 91-year-old dad had fallen; we later learned that it was a stroke.  After Christmas our family drove down to Florida for my mother-in-law’s memorial service.

In February we took a family cruise so we stayed at my mother-in-law’s house before and after the trip.  The house seemed so empty without her there.  My husband stayed afterwards to help his sister clean out the house.  I flew home and a few days later I was diagnosed with pneumonia.  It hit me hard and it took a long time to recover.  In fact, the cough has lingered and I’ve learned I have mild lung damage.

In March my husband and I drove down to California to see my parents.  My 89-year-old mom was struggling to care for my dad who at this point was in a hospital bed at home.  My mom was having trouble getting help and was exhausted.  I spent the week cooking meals and stocking their freezer.  I returned home emotionally and physically exhausted.  In April our family traveled to Alexandria, Virginia, for my mother-in-law’s interment service.  She was buried next to her husband in a beautiful cemetery full of spring blossoms. 

Through all this I have continued to coordinate two interfaith groups, a committee at church, and more.  I am always busy. . . and often tired.

Today is Thanksgiving.  On Sunday our pastor spoke about whining.  She reminded us that the lamentations in Psalms always end in praise.  She handed out bracelets as a reminder that when we whine we need to think about what we are grateful for in our lives.  I am wearing one of those bracelets.

I am pondering all of this.  We were never promised a trouble-free life.  What we were promised is love; God is always present.  This I know and that is truly a blessing.

My daughter and her husband are back together and he is getting counseling.  We all miss my mother-in-law but we know that she lived a good, long life and was satisfied with that.  I would say that she was grateful.  My parents are doing okay.  They are finally getting help from the VA and from other sources.  I am grateful. 

Me?  I am dealing with my various medical issues and I know that I am doing much better than others my age.  I have learned a lot about myself this past year.  I am grateful.

I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life—family and friends, church people, interfaith connections, community activists, and more.  God is in the connections with all these people.  What is my role?  I am learning that there is only so much that we can actually do when someone else is hurting.  I think I am learning the importance of simply being present.  To listen.  To connect.  And to always share the love that is God.

Tall grass sways with wind

The river flows swiftly by

God is within all

Time to Take Down the Christmas Tree

I am sitting and enjoying the quiet of my bedroom.  It is the twelfth day of Christmas and our house is still decorated.  Tomorrow is Epiphany but I am reluctant to take the decorations down.  When I look at them they bring me peace, a peace I desperately need right now.

We flew home on New Year’s Day after spending the holidays with family.  I traveled with the beginning of a cold, a gift from my daughter.  I cancelled the few things I had scheduled and stayed home the past four days.  I lost my voice and couldn’t talk at all for a couple days.  I think that contributed to me pulling inward, reflecting, and also mourning.

Just after we arrived in North Carolina we got word that my 95-year-old mother-in-law had died from the stroke she had suffered the week before.  We had all thought that this amazing woman might make it to 100.  The day after her stroke she rallied, sat up, ate lunch, and talked to people.  However, the next day she was unconscious and her daughter took her home to die in familiar surroundings.  Eight of us drove down to Florida for the service, to celebrate a life well-lived.  She leaves a hole that cannot be filled; we have to learn to walk around it.  It is filled with sweet memories.

My own parents are struggling after my dad suffered some sort of stroke.  They live alone in their own home but clearly my dad cannot stay there.  My sisters are dealing with this, far away from me.  It’s hard.

It is easy to be melancholy with all the sadness.  It is dark and cold outside.  I am lacking energy because I am sick.  I turn on the news and I only feel worse—the government is shut down, the stock market has plummeted, and our president keeps twittering lies and absurdities.  Our bank account is down to almost nothing.  Our very conservative Idaho Legislature is returning next week.  What will they inflict on us or refuse to do next?  I could go on but it is depressing.  I think I need my Christmas decorations.

Yet through all of the sadness I still have hope.  I know God is with me and with all of us.  I feel it. .. and I see it.  Where?

I experienced hope as I spent time with my young grandson.  He is a bright spot in the lives of everyone around him, even during his meltdowns.  My favorite time was when we made cookies together, at his request.  At age 3, he is so open and full of questions.  He knows his mimi is in heaven with their dog, Bridgett.  Is that in Texas?  His parents, my daughter and son-in-law had a rough few months and were separated for a while.  They are back together and trying to make it work.  It won’t be easy, but I have hope as I watch them.  My younger daughter is in a slowly budding relationship.  Will they marry?  I don’t know, but I see the tender way they interact and it brings me joy.  The time we spent together as family, celebrating the holidays and in mourning, was precious.

I sat in frustration this morning thinking about politics, both local and national, and the organizing I need to do.  In my devotion time I was reminded about Jesus, the rebel who stood up for justice for the poor and oppressed.  I have a good example.  Certainly I can rally myself and others to work for change here.  Maybe we can even Add the Words (sexual orientation and gender identity to the Idaho Human Rights Act).  On Thursday we got a new Congress; the House is the most diverse it has ever been with more minorities and 89 women!  This gives me hope.

So tomorrow I’ll take down those Christmas decorations and prepare for the week ahead.  I’ll call my parents and my daughters.  And then I’ll start organizing to help make my part of the world a bit better.  I have hope.

The Yellow Fever Tree

I have shared about some of the animals and people that we encountered during our time in Gorongosa National Park in Mozambique.  However, I must also share about a very important part of this park—the very diverse landscape.  As we drove from one area to another, the terrain changed.  There were amazing trees and shrubs that I have never seen before.

One tree dominated certain areas that we passed through.  You couldn’t miss them.  Their yellow trunks and branches made them stand out from the others.  The tree is the Yellow Fever Tree.  What a strange name!  Our guides told us that the early explorers and settlers noticed that people who slept under one of these trees were more likely to get malaria.  What they didn’t understand was that these trees grew in damp area where mosquitoes thrived and of course, we now know that they were the cause of the fever.  However, the name stuck.

I learned that these vibrant yellow trees do not actually have yellow bark even though it appears that way.  The yellow is actually a fine dust that covers the green bark.  This green bark helps with photosynthesis.  The tree’s leaves provide food for elephants while the pods are enjoyed by monkeys.  The powdered roots and stem bark are now used as an anti-malarial medication. 

When the sun hits these unique trees, they seem to glow.

Walking Down the Same Road

My husband and I returned a couple days ago from a visit with my elderly parents in the gold country of California.  They live in an area that was homesteaded by my father’s family.  Our ancestors arrived after gold was discovered nearby.  I have never lived in this area but I feel a strong connection just the same.  My father grew up in a house just up the road that is now owned by my first cousin.  His mother grew up just down the road from my parents’ home.  Her parents owned the property which is now owned by strangers.  Other relatives once lived in the area and I can remember visiting them when I was a child; some of those houses are now gone.

We took a walk down the road from my parents’ house.  As we walked I was aware that we walked the same route that my father and his mother before him walked to their one room school.  I could almost picture my grandmother as a little girl skipping down the road.  Of course, the road would not have been paved in the early 1900s and there weren’t so many houses.  However, I suspect much of the route looks the same.  Majestic oaks spread their long branches.  In the winter mistletoe dots their bare limbs.  In the ravines the blackberry bushes are thick and unfriendly.  Deer peer shyly from behind bushes while the turkeys scurry away. 

My family walked this road before me and I feel the connection.  I took photos with the hope that I could take a bit of it home with me.  This land touches my memory and my heart.

 

 

 

 

Shoes and More in Nhambita Village

During the middle of our week in Gorongosa National Park in Mozambique, we left the park to visit Nhambita Village.  Our first stop was an agriculture project supported by the park.  We saw a demonstration garden where people learned how to do sustainable gardening.  It was done all by hand.  We listened to the men who ran the project while some of the women stood nearby.  Unfortunately, it had begun to rain (and we were supposed to be in the dry season) so we tried to listen attentively while at the same time attempting to keep dry.

The rain continued as we drove to our next stop.  People waved to us as we drove by.  The children were especially friendly.  These people live in extreme poverty; we are rich in comparison.  Rain formed huge puddles, ponds even, around the little houses.

 

When we finally arrived at the school some of us were drenched despite the ponchos we were given.  The canopies on our vehicles would collect water and then at times dump it on us through the open sides.  By the time we arrived, I looked like a drowned rat.  However, once we stopped and entered the school building, our attention was on the children. 

The school was not in session at this time.  We met with girls from the Girls Club.  We sat at the back of the classroom as they welcomed us.  An adult leader told us about the club and the girls.  The girls sang and danced for us.  We were delighted.  And then it was our turn.

We brought out the bags containing the shoes that grow.  The bag I had carried still had not arrived and neither had two other bags of shoes, but enough had arrived for us to hand out these amazing shoes.  The shoes, which were made in Nampa, Idaho, are designed to lengthen and widen as the child’s foot grows.  The girls quietly lined up for a pair of shoes.  I looked at their feet—they were either barefoot or they were wearing very thin, cheap flip flops.  We took turns handing out the shoes.  When it was my turn, I handed a pair of shoes to several shy girls with the most beautiful smiles.  For me, this was one of the highlights of our trip.  (For more information about these wonderful shoes, go to https://theshoethatgrows.org/.  Help distribute shoes to kids or make a donation.)

Once we left the school, we headed for the Community Education Center.  We received a short presentation about the center before sitting down to a delicious lunch.  There were people from the community present for lunch also.  After lunch we toured the center which includes dormitories.  One of my favorite spots was the area where they make honey.  We saw the hives and the small little building, which is more like a closet, where the honey is processed.  The honey is sold in the park so before we left Gorongosa, I bought a jar of this honey to bring home.  (And yes, it is delicious.)