Meeting Dora.

About a week ago I volunteered a few hours at a food bank. I was the special chocolate hander-outer, meaning that as people walked out of the door, I stopped them with a smile and a chocolate bar. Everyone was really excited, and I even got some hugs.

A small lady walked by with a full cart of food. She took my chocolate with a smile and kept walking. As she turned the corner out of the food bank, things began to fall out of her cart. She put them back in, but as she started walking they just fell out again. So I went out to help her. I asked her her name. With a big smile she said, "Dora. A very famous name." Dora didn't speak very much English, and I don't speak any Spanish and so our conversation didn't go much beyond that. I wish it had. I think she would have been a really good friend.

Tomorrow I am finally fulfilling the promise I made to myself at the YAV re-entry retreat. I'm going to the Kenyan service at the church I attend. Every time I think about going, I feel a mixture of excitement and fear -- excitement to hear that Kenyan accent again, and maybe to sing "Wastahili ewe, Bwana" or any song in Kiswahili...fear that I'll end up on the floor, crying (a joke that I used to make with Shurie. "Shurie, I'm going to call you everyday when we get to the States, and I'll say 'SHURIE! I'm on the floor! I can't get up!'" To which she would reply, "Rachel. Get off the floor.")

But, if I do end up on the floor, I'm sure someone will help me up. They may look at me funny, or call for help...but I'll find a way to stand on my two feet again. And then I'll walk to my car, drive home, go to sleep, wake up, and walk again. I'll work during the day and when Peter gets home we'll cook something to eat (though not on Monday. Monday is designated pizza night.) We'll watch some TV and he'll probably hug tackle me. Then, I'll soak up every minute we have together before I go to sleep and wake up again.

Days are hard. I don't always feel like myself. I don't always feel like I'm Rachel in Seattle. Sometimes I feel like Rachel in Kenya or Rachel in Mills River. But Rachel is in there.

If I close my eyes, I can feel the beauty that surrounds me. I am fortunate to have people to love, who will always receive, envelop and return that love. I hope that Dora has that too.