Day 702

My New Year brings much of the old. So much work still to do, so many people who need this help. No cocktail hour for me--I save my money to buy mosquito nets, pay school fees, mix infant formula. "Auld Lang Syne" rings in my heart. Smiles explode in the sky of the children's faces.

Day 701

Christmas Day passes. The birth of a savior. Where is he now?

Day 691

A boiled yam arrives at my door wrapped in a banana leaf. I would die for these people.

Day 690

Is this really a "holiday season," with so much suffering in the world? The German takes a holiday to his country. I redouble my efforts to help the many that I can.

Day 687

Flowers, today. The blossoming children tend the simple garden.

Day 683

To whom do I owe the simple pleasures of this work: the need of man or the bounty of the Earth?

Day 676

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands.

Day 675

I walk upon this earth with a light and winsome step, but I shall tarry for the chance to crush a biting insect.

Day 674

What are two hands clapping but the noise of union and harmony, my crushing the German and his relenting?

Day 671

Silence, today. The harvest is beginning. I have removed from my land what was overgrown and fetid.