Some homes we are given others gently choose us.

I arrived in the evening, tired and unsure of what to expect, but they welcomed me with warmth that instantly put me at ease. They asked about  my favourite food and went ahead and  prepared it, I cried when saying thank you. 

When everything felt new in my service, they were my testing ground, my first audience, my honest critics, my quiet cheerleaders. Every idea I wasn’t sure about, I tried with them first. They made it feel safe to start. We burnt the first cake while trying, my host mum helped me take my first picture, grandma made sure I knew greetings before my second day, the children were my counterparts, I never felt homesick. We I trained them on making a seed bed for vegetables which later generated income. She took me to the traditional ceremonies in the village, to the river, taught me how to prepare thier traditional delicacies and introduced me as thier daughter to the community, this made integration so smooth.

When the days feel too long or I miss home a little too much, I show up, unannounced, and somehow there’s always a warm meal, organic and made with care, waiting for me.

That simple beginning became the foundation of everything, giving me a safe place to grow, test my ideas, and show up fully in my service, while they, in turn, became part of the journey, shaping and sharing in every small impact we created together.