I am only one, But still I am one. I cannot do everything, But still I can do something; And because I cannot do everything I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.

The other shoppers in the bookstore today, crowded around to hear Marc’s story, even asking questions as they tried to wrap their mind around the tale of this generous and ambitious seven year old.


Last year Marc developed a heart for India and wanted to do something. So, by saving his allowance he bought five of his favorite books and sent them with me to pass out to schools. Months later his mom called, after the family returned from a trip to the beach. On the trip Marc had collected an abundance of shells – more than any kid should be taking home. When his mother asked, “Why all the shells?” he told her that he wanted to sell them to make money for the kids in India. Inspired by her son’s vision and wanting to help him fulfill it, she was somewhat uncertain whether many people would purchase any of her son’s shells. After some crafty packaging, the date for the sale was set. With final preparations in place Marc said he wanted to make sure to invite “the guys” (his baseball team) and handed out fliers. At his sale Marc raised $140.00. Inspired by his efforts, a friend from church offered to match Marc’s sum…bringing his total to $280.00. Driven by his desire to do even more Marc informed the donor that with only $20.00 more he could reach $300.00. It was given. Joined by yet another donor and ten dollars of his own allowance Marc was able to send $410.00 to India. His plan is to fill an empty library with books and give the rest to “feed the hungry kids.”

Thanks Marc for inspiring me, those in the bookstore, and now those reading this blog, of your generous heart. A few days before leaving for India Marc’s asked his mom, “Mom, do you know what I am thinking…. I think that next year I need to build a lot of libraries.”

If you would like to help Marc reach his goal please let me know.. or just be inspired to

From Scraps To Tapestry

Enter a door to safety. Inside, women's lives shredded by hardship are pieced together by the loving hands of those who see beauty where others have seen waste. Scraps gently lifted and held to the light – revealing threads of gold, red, amber, magenta, etc. Carefully salvaged, restored and pieced together – new creations.

A hand held out – healing – lives lifted up. Rejoice!!

Train of Thought

The rain is pouring down the window of the train.  What are they doing now?  They said the roof leaks.  Has the mud floor turned into a mud puddle?  He lay curled up on an empty rice bag. His wife, head down and arms crossed, sat beside him in the metal walled home that felt like a baking oven.   Is it muddy?  Can they keep a fire burning in the rain to cook the food?  Maybe that doesn’t matter. Last night, they said they had no food to cook anyway.  

We Made It (by my mom)

We are here. Happy to say those words after almost encountering a glitch before even arriving in Hyderabad. Following an overnight stay in Delhi, with a flight scheduled for 9:15 a.m., we stepped up to the check-in counter only to be told that we were too late for our flight (even though we thought we still had plenty of time). It was time to run. Even if we got on the flight our checked baggage would not likely make it. We were ready to hustle, but Lauren had an extra special examination of her electronic equipment, an exasperating delay. Lauren told me to hurry on ahead to try and secure our spot. When I got to the gate, there was no one to be seen…just one official looking person who radioed that we had arrived. Lauren puffed in behind me and we boarded the plane. Upon landing we planted ourselves at the baggage carousel...just in case. We waited and watched and waited and watched….and down the chute dropped our red and green bags. 

Within minutes we were met by our driver, who escorted us into our next adventure….driving on the roadways of India, an adrenaline spiking transportation experience, which is not for the faint of heart.  A confluence of cars, trucks, bicycles, pedestrians, dogs, cows, auto rickshaws, and motorbikes all jockey for dominance on the road, all vying to squeeze into whatever space may open up in the traffic while continually administering fervent thrusts to the brake and horn.

Yes, we are happy to be here.

Closing the Gap

“You get a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, I told him, like you'll not only miss the people you love but you'll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you'll never be this way ever again.” 
― Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

A great part about returning to India over and over is I get to be "that person" every year for six weeks....This time, is a new adventure.. My mom will be joining me.  For her, it will be a new adventure of smells, sights and sounds.  For me, it will be an adventure of letting her see a part of me, an inner joy that only seems to show it self a whole world away. 

Let the adventure begin!