No Safari, Lots of Stories

I did not go on a safari in Africa. But I did write! Words just poured out of me there. The smell of campfires, the red dirt, the little hands reaching up to clutch yours... so much warmth. Anyone would feel like an artist surrounded by such beauty.

I tend to romanticize things. I know this. But I am not romanticizing the beauty of Malawi. Yes, many of the children I interviewed had faced harsh realities: hunger, abandonment, death. Yet they cling to, and reveal, so much beauty, peace, hope, all that. This astounds me.

Writing their stories enlivened me. I was a little nervous at first--switching hats from fiction writer to journalist. But it didn't matter. A story is a story, and each child's demanded to be told. Have you ever felt like a part of something way bigger than yourself, your writing? Um, yeah, I felt that pretty much all the time.

Someone asked me today if it all felt like a dream. Not yet. I still catch wisps of remembered sounds and sights that serve as a little pinch. No, you weren't dreaming, Sam. Yes, the children you interviewed were flesh and blood--stories made real.

Above is a picture of one such story: the Chokadala triplets. You can read about them here: COTN. If you get a chance, cruise around COTN's website. As someone who has been there, I can say that child sponsors really are changing lives. The kids have pictures of their sponsors taped above their beds, treasure their letters, pray for them... okay, sales pitch closed.

Missed you, lovely readers! Happy Thanksgiving, and I hope it's all kinds of fantastic!