Pictures are worth a thousand words. In my current state of writer's block, pictures are invaluable.
Thank you to each of you who made a blanket, hosted a party, or
collected blankets. Again, my words feel rather useless. I hope the pictures catch some of the excitement from our evening spent at the CarePoint in Korah. The sun was going down as we wove through the streets. The vehicles were attracting attention because of the load strapped to the roof. It had to be a funny picture--suitcases and boxes stuffed with bright blankets, all tied to the top of the vans. We pulled through the gates and the courtyard was vacant, save a few adults and roaming chickens. I thought that the children must have gone home. Then, I stepped into a long building and saw that the children were patiently waiting! There were rows and rows of smiling faces, waiting expectantly.
I won't go into details...Karen spoke. Our group sang. We had so little time, knowing that their caregivers were probably waiting outside for them. Finally, we unzipped suitcases and emptied boxes. Then, we shared your care and love with the children. We were blessed to be the ones passing the blankets to the children. Thank you for caring!
My thanks fall short of how wonderful it really is for these families to get warm blankets. Pictures are worth a thousand words, and the following pictures say thank you! One of the gals in my van made a comment about seeing a blanket on the bed in a house she visited. I HAD to get those pictures and share them! This may not be the blanket you made, it is one out of over 400 we brought last year. It's a great reminder of so many things. Mainly, your hard work continues to be a blessing to families in Ethiopia.
These pictures encourage me. I hope you share my excitement--the blankets are being used! Your small sacrifices continue to help children. There are so many ways to be involved in the lives of these children. Right now, the children at Kind Hearts are waiting for more classrooms. Please visit Karen's blog to read more about how to get involved and donate to this project: Family-From-Afar
December 13, 2012
December 10, 2012
My Apologies
I am sorry.
Blogging has always been feast or famine for me. Unfortunately, when I get home from Ethiopia, I usually begin a period of famine. I feel guilty. I blame it on the adjustment after being gone. Secretly, I think it's my way of coping.
I desperately want to share our ten days with everyone. I want to show all 359 pictures and explain each one in detail. I want to hold my woven baskets up and let you take in the smell of Ethiopia. I want to show you hours of video and share each story that I heard from our translators.
"So, tell me about your trip!" you might say, with a smile showing genuine interest.
I want to gush. I want describe the time so eloquently that you feel as if you were with me. Instead, I freeze. My mind is speeding through the amazing trip, but my mouth won't open.
You get a lame, "It was an amazing trip!"
I am sorry. I think next year you should just come with us.
Blogging has always been feast or famine for me. Unfortunately, when I get home from Ethiopia, I usually begin a period of famine. I feel guilty. I blame it on the adjustment after being gone. Secretly, I think it's my way of coping.
I desperately want to share our ten days with everyone. I want to show all 359 pictures and explain each one in detail. I want to hold my woven baskets up and let you take in the smell of Ethiopia. I want to show you hours of video and share each story that I heard from our translators.
"So, tell me about your trip!" you might say, with a smile showing genuine interest.
I want to gush. I want describe the time so eloquently that you feel as if you were with me. Instead, I freeze. My mind is speeding through the amazing trip, but my mouth won't open.
You get a lame, "It was an amazing trip!"
I am sorry. I think next year you should just come with us.
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