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Odette’s brother Innocent, in a sandwich hug with Grace and Lillian

I’m waking every morning to a sweet memory and sometimes there is a picture to go with it. Yesterday Odette told me a story relayed to her by her brother Innocent. Grace–Odette’s oldest, the one with TB and the kid who has always really struggled emotionally since the death of her father–was hugging Innocent hard and telling him, “Uncle, I love you so, so much.” Since Grace is a proverbial teenager, more prone to depression than outlays of affection, Innocent was totally taken back. When he asked her what had gotten into her, she told him it was Odette’s book. That before she read it, she knew that he and her mother were best friends, but that she didn’t realize how much he had loved Odette from the beginning, and that one thought put so much love and appreciation for him in her heart.

From having the firsthand experience of watching Innocent completely pour his life out not only for Odette’s kids but for so many orphans that come across his everyday path, this morning it puts a good measure of gratitude and love in my heart, too. I am still blown away by the way certain people carry one another’s suffering and find the space to make things a little bit better, even when their own limitations are great.

Stories about this and more everyday from here on out.

Lillian and Grace in Umutara, a little village in the eastern province of Rwanda

My heart is so full, I don’t even know where to start. I promised myself I would give myself a few days to just rest and sleep and reflect before diving into stories and pictures, but I wanted to let you all know I am home safe and sound after an amazing trip.

I thought I was going to Rwanda to bring hope and a little bit of encouragement, but the truth is I am the one who will never be the same again. Being in that little village, in that little mud house, sleeping with Odette’s daughter Lillian in my arms on one side and Odette’s mother on the other (and 13 other people in the tiny room beside), I experienced kindness like I have never known in my life.

I’m having trouble even speaking now that I’m home. This experience in many ways was seamless for me. I did not feel any culture shock or discomfort or concern of any kind, even when everything about the circumstances screamed that maybe I should. Instead, each day gave way to a growing sense that I was being passed from arm to arm like a newborn baby–the love and care expressed by Odette’s incredible family was so total and complete. I walked away, after days and days of no thoughts or thinking of any kind, with only one idea: that if I spent the rest of my life caring for this one family and making sure every girl born in that village had everything she needed to start and finish school, I could die an incredibly happy woman.

I could say more, but I want to soak in every memory, every moment. So many stories and a thousand pictures coming soon.

Meet Grace and Lillian. I am happy beyond words to be with them and completely at home in this amazing, beautiful place.

Traveling so far gave me the tiniest taste of what it might have been for Odette to make her journey. My respect and my admiration for her strength and hope as a woman and mother leave me in awe. Truly, Odette, my friend, you know the truest meaning of love and
of courage. I have so much to learn from you.

I don’t have much time to write and would pay money for you to see this internet cafe, but know this: Rwanda is a warm, welcoming, loving place. For all the sorrows witnessed (and perpetrated) here, there is an equal measure of kindness and hope.

We are moving out to the villages tomorrow. There are many logistical things to work out with the girls as Lillian has had exposure to TB and more than likely should not return to her school. The girls need someone to care for them in Kigali and much support. Working
on these details while I’m here.

With so much love for you all, Jen

I don’t really know what to write on this post, other than to be totally honest and say that I have been crying pretty much off and on for the last 36 hours. This present from my dearest Tracey totally undid me yesterday and I have been pretty much a mess ever since.

It’s not that I am afraid to go on this trip–I’m really not fearful even the tiniest bit. I believe that I’m safe and that all will be well–here and away. It’s just this overwhelming feeling of crossing over a threshold and feeling like nothing will ever be the same again that’s maybe leaving me more than a little out of sorts. One of my greatest fears has always been that I would lose the people I love if I truly followed my heart. I have a little gremlin-y voice in my head that says it’s selfish or crazy to live this way, that nothing really matters but hearth and home and why do you have to go flying around the world anyway? I don’t know what to do with that voice other than entertain it, at least for a little bit, and honor it, because part of it is totally true. There are no three people I love more on this earth than Madeleine, Carter or Dave, even though poor Dave might be totally shocked to read that sentence. I can’t imagine being separated from them for any serious length of time without feeling like my life would shatter into a million little pieces. When I get to little moments like this, I know in a new way it’s true.

Which brings me to one of the reasons I am going in the first place. “Odette hasn’t seen her girls in two years,” Madeleine said tonight through quiet tears. “I can go without you for nine days.” She is making a conscious sacrifice for what might be the first time in her life–giving up something that feels enormous to her at nine years old, and then considering it in light of a greater whole. I hate this kind of hierarchy of pain–or hierarchy of virtue for that matter. Nothing is better than anything else. And nothing is worse. It is what it is and we each suffer or celebrate as the heart demands. Even Odette agrees. Still. I felt Madeleine’s tears and felt my own and prayed to God, the Universe or Meryl that her joy would match her sorrow while I’m gone, and that her love for me and for Odette would give way to a deep sense of knowing she is growing up full of wonderful Light.

Last night in the middle of all this emotion, Lourdes came, the way she has come so many times, like an angel out of nowhere to hold me together, to pick me up, to tell me the truth in that way only she can. I have been her rock and now she is mine more often than I could ever have dreamed so many years ago.

“I stay, Jennifer. I stay here sleeping with Moira. I can’t leave you now.” I then followed her around the house while she organized me and helped me pack and talked to me and made me calm again. In Myers-Briggs world, Lourdes is the exact opposite of me and yesterday we made a perfect circle. Her strength for my tears, my drama for her calm.

Tomorrow (or is it already today?) I will get on a plane and fly through the day and into the night and when it’s morning, I’ll wake up in Africa where Odette’s incredibly kind family will greet me. What happens after that no one knows, but I am deeply aware it has nothing to do with my tears or my worries or even my hopes and dreams. For so many people (literally hundreds) to rally like this, to give so much with so much joy and so much heart–that can only mean something wonderful is brewing in Rwanda. I am the one who gets to go and see it with my very own eyes, but you are the ones who are giving me confidence in my heart. Everywhere I go I will tell the people I meet how much love you have and how much you gave and how much you believe that amazing things can come from little things–like girls learning to read under the trees or mothers who believe they are so powerful, that they dare to write a little book and then make a way for the ones they love to be with them again.

Odette’s Grace will meet me there and I will see for myself how she is, what she needs, how the drugs are helping (and bothering) her. I will tell her that her mother loves her and that she did not forget her, that she is coming soon, and she need never doubt the reason for this leaving. That her mother is brave behind words and has the determination and persistence to make real dreams come true someday soon. Even this one: of living under one roof, in one house, in one country.

I’m sure this makes no sense at all, but I haven’t the heart to edit. I am so incredibly thankful, so deeply grateful for this moment in my life. I am wise enough to know things like this happen for a reason, and I am foolish enough to believe that hope paves a way when there is no way. You have taught me that a thousand times over and for this I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Hopefully, this will be the last sappy post and the rest will be all Africa and Grace and goodness and wonder. I love you all so much.

While packing yesterday mostly involved me walking around in circles wondering what to do next, I did get the joy of receiving two very important packages via FedEx yesterday. First, this amazing, lovely miracle of a gift from my soul siblings, James Harris and Stephanie Roberts of Elemental Interactive.

This tiny treasure will help me capture everything about the trip from the first experience of meeting Odette’s daughters Grace and Lillian to distributing the zine in the villages. I am so incredibly thankful.

A year ago, James totally turned my life around by asking me some very important questions:

Why are you not a publisher?
Why are you looking for someone else to say your work is okay?
What if you are the one who gives permission? What if you are the blesser?

That conversation completely changed my life without James even knowing it.

If that gift was not enough, after I opened that package, I received another. This video explaining exactly how to use the camera. Brotherhood redefined! James & Stephanie–you two are the best!

Today the zine will be delivered and my friend for many years Sandie Angulo Chen will be helping me power out fulfillment. The amazing Natala, my ace in the hole, is coming to help as well. It’s going to be a full day.

Day before yesterday, the author herself signed off on the press check. We agreed that after this Odette would never be called a house girl again. As only Odette can say (with feeling!) “Amen!”

In case you only have time for one sentence, the zine is waiting for you here!

Okay. Is this not the sweetest thing you have ever seen? My Japanese neighbor Mana Maeda made a whole bag full of origami hearts for me “for the children of Rwanda.” The kindness folded into each and every heart just blows me away.

This is not the only act of love happening on my street this morning. Madeleine’s piano teacher (and my kindred spirit friend) Katie Kellert donated the tuition from Madeleine’s entire spring semester to the Rwanda Trip. This was such a personal and sacrificial gift that I wanted to find a way to really honor her generosity. One hundred of these LamaLi journals made by women living in the rural villages of Nepal (eco-friendly and fair trade-woohoo!) are going with me in Katie’s honor. With the help of Odette’s sister-in-law, Golethe, I’ll be talking to a special group of girls about Mondo Beyondo dreams and using journaling as a tool to problem-solve and put dearest thoughts on paper.

Tucked inside will be these Hope Notes–made possible by the goodness of Krystyn Heide, the HopeRevo.com community and little girls like this lovely from Tracey Clark’s daughter’s Girl Scout troup. Or these sweet things, all the way from DreamerGirl in the Netherlands. I’m expecting about 100 notes tomorrow via FedEx.

It’s Love Thursday, and I am feeling it! Now I’m going to go light a candle and take a deep breath. I have to figure out once and for all how to get 400 pounds of all this goodness packed and onto a plane in the next few days.

You can still donate to this project and help us cover last minute expenses here. I’m doing last minute shopping today for 1000 pens. The zine, of course, is dying for you to make her your very own here. And thank you to everyone who posted or sent links our way! Keep them coming!

The cover of the zine. I have 350 preview copies for sale on etsy for the next few days. All proceeds will go to Odette, Grace’s care and our last minute incidental expenses for the Girl Power Rwanda Trip. Please help us spread the word.

Thank you
for encouraging me
for believing something magical could happen
for caring about Odette and her daughters
for being willing to support this dream
for watering a tiny seed that has grown overnight into an incredible source of power and hope

This is your zine, and it will go further and do more good than any one of us can imagine in this moment. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It’s been a total whirlwind. I could try to put it all in words, but the pictures might tell it all.

After a really crazy week last week, sending the zine to print, here we are looking at real live proofs for the zine from our helpful printer, Joe Penny.

I’m learning so much from the amazing Meryl and thanks to her kind boss Cate we were able to review the proofs in their office.

After what felt like two years staring at these proud chickens, Meryl and I are both still smitten. Those hens make me so happy.

And if that wasn’t enough excitement, Odette and I went straight from there to Jeannine Harvey’s house yesterday to record voice overs for a girl power video I am taking to show Odette’s girls and their friends in Rwanda. (I know what you are thinking! What next?) But seriously, Odette had the vision for taking a video to the girls and Jeannine (thanks to her colleagues at PBS) pulled together the right people to make it happen. Carlene Martin (I heart Carlene) shot the video a few weekends ago and yesterday we went back to the studio to make sure all the voices were loud and clear.

Here’s Mike, Jeannine’s brilliant husband who played sound engineer for us yesterday…

And the incredible Carlene–our uber-talented producer who works with PBS & who is helping us as a total labor of love…

Odette is the main star of our mini-production with an incredible message of hope and girl power–not only for her daughters but for all the little girls in Rwanda. Doesn’t she look like she was meant for the sound stage here?

We had so much fun doing her voice overs in Kinyarwanda.

This short video also features photos and shorts from these cutie-pies–girls who wanted to reach out to African girls their own age–to find out what matters to them and to share what’s making them feel strong and alive right now in their own lives.

I can hardly believe what’s happening right now. The outpouring of love and support from you all is carrying us so very far. Just knowing so much is going into this visit is really helping Lillian and especially Grace right now. The girls’ aunt’s been reporting that the girls are so excited about this trip that they’ve been talking late into the night–a significant improvement for Grace whose spirits have been so incredibly low the last few weeks. She reported to her mother today that she is starting to get used to the medication and that it’s not feeling quite so tough on her system. Doctors are saying they believe she can fully recover if she continues on this strict regimen of the right medications. Lillian is with Grace now so she can be screened for TB as well–evidently Lillian roomed with a child at boarding school who contracted TB earlier this year. We’ll breathe a serious sigh of relief if this kid can walk away with a clean TB test and clean bill of health.

I can’t wait to see these girls and discover all the ways their mother lives and moves in them, even in her absence.

Tomorrow a portion of the zines will go on sale here in the United States. Stay tuned.

Did I mention I leave on Sunday?

Reina and Madeleine.

I only have a second, but I wanted you to know we finally have news about Grace. After further tests the doctors are convinced that she does have TB. Odette said this morning that Grace has been crying since her diagnosis and has been refusing to eat and that the medications are really bothering her. We only had a minute to talk this morning, but O. said she thinks Grace has lost all hope. I’ve been wandering around the house wondering if there is anything at all I can take her (besides her very own mother or 2000 bouncy balls and 2000 zines) that would help her feel even a little bit better. This poor kid has been through the ringer.

There’s more I could say, but I’m in recovery mode after two near-all nighters on the zine. I’m desperately relieved to say that it is finally in the hands of a new printer, after a few near disasters yesterday–one of which included the old printer forgetting to mention that shipping would be an extra $1000. Needless to say he did not get the job. What the new printer lacks in cheap prices, he makes up for in cheerfulness and a sterling good character. I feel glad the job will be done locally, too.

I’ll keep you updated on Grace. I feel so bad for her. I am so incredibly hopeful that I can give her the tiniest bit of comfort and even more courage when I arrive next week. Let’s hope.

one proud chicken from the upcoming zine

The whole gist of Odette’s zine-story about finding a way to make money in the refugee camps is that even when you think you have nothing, you can take that nothing and make magic out of it. For Odette and her brother Innocent, that “nothing” was a few chickens and a whole lotta chicken eggs. By pooling their eggs (and their eventual sales) with other children these little kids were able to send five more to school and keep enough money on hand to function as a small business mini-loan office for the struggling adults around them. It’s one of my favorite power stories of all time.

It’s incredibly tempting to get into a space where you fear there isn’t enough or anything at all to help you out of a tight spot. Seeing the world through the eyes of scarcity is the gateway drug to all misery. It has taken me years to crawl out of that hole and many more to stay out. Going to Africa, the universal symbol for “not enough” in the modern mind, will test that, I can only imagine. Still, I can’t help but hope I don’t miss abundance. Sob stories don’t get you nearly as far as tales of the wild abundance of trusting hearts.

Whenever you set your heart on such lessons, the Universe laughs and then sends you a barage of test questions, along with a real life exam. I’m taking mine right now, wondering what hidden source of skill or strength is waiting for me to notice her so I can make some magic out of those zine pages.

It will require a small miracle or actually starting the dishwasher. But why not?

Yesterday brought a tent, a camera and maybe even a cow. Stranger things have happened, no?

What under-utilized resource is waiting for your able hands this morning? I’m finding out I can do so much more than I ever imagined, one tiny step at a time.