Every Friday night at the farm, we have a small party. A couple weeks ago, volunteers, upper management, Fr. Marc and Charlie, MaTante and some of our kids enjoyed food, drink and some impromptu entertainment. After two kids performed a traditional Haitian dance, everyone seated around the table took a turn singing. Now, as I sit freezing in Washington, DC, I can only imagine what my dear friends are doing out at the farm this night.
This week, I've sent some emails, pleaded with some folks for help and done some other logistical planning and organizing. In my free time, I had coffee with Nick's older brother (Nick's my friend who was in the accident with me) who lives in DC. In addition, I had a drink with some friends at the Tabard Inn where my friend Alex's old friend works (Alex is the UN worker who lives with Nick and cleaned our wounds the night of the accident). Though I am far from where I want to be and from people about whom I have grown to care, I marvel at how small this world really is.
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