72 hours until the longest summer of my life is over. 72 hours until I am snuggled in quilts and flannel, protected from the freeze and snow. 72 hours until I am home to Kansas comforts and Mom and Dad. 72 hours until I am separated from my new family of 21 sisters and brothers. 72 hours. I know I should not measure nor limit these last few moments in numbers but the urgency is overwhelming. This experience that has…
There is no word for “thank you” in Ngobe. There is no word to express earnestly the appreciation you have for another’s action. No word to give praise to what you have. No word to whisper in the ear of someone close to you who hugged you when you were alone. There is no word to hope for when you do something nice for another. No word to toss at someone or hold away as punishment. No word to drag…
The tide was high and the broken path of rocks attaching the dock to its broken concrete portion beyond was smothered by water. A baby sergeant fish, no larger than a dime, bumbled in the gaps, trapped in the shallow collection of stones, pacing its way about. The sun was setting but not in the traditional remarkable way; rarely is the sky a combination of reds and yellows and oranges here; instead, the sun sets amid a pile of fluffy…
First, I missed my flight. Well, not actually. I made my connecting flight, I was there, the plane was there, but the doors were shut and they would not let me on board. I had sprinted across the Houston airport to no avail, only to be told my efforts were pointless simply because of a technicality of someone being too stubborn to re-open the door, a door that had shut merely four minutes prior. The reality of what I was…