Let’s face it. The 2016 presidential race was brutal and divisive. While so many hoped that the election would put a stop to all the divisiveness, the election of Donald Trump seems to have caused an even greater divide within our great nation, the United States of America.

Will we heal?

Will we hear the other side?

What will it take to bridge the gap between us and them?

Questions loom and linger.

How will we move through and beyond?

Some are grieving. Some are angry. Some are numb now. Some just don’t understand.

Is our country safe anymore?

What will come of our world?

What will a Donald Trump presidency look like?

Will the protests subside, or will they go on for four or eight years?

Will we ever be able to cross the divide?

So many unknowns.

So many uncertainties.

There is no clear or right answer except to remember we are ONE nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for ALL.

So what do we do?

Where do we start?

Perhaps we need to step back in time.

This week, my offering to a world that’s in awe, a world that’s divided, a world that’s uncertain and in need comes from my 4-year-old daughter.

In the midst of my grief over what’s transpired during this deeply divisive presidential election, my four year old has shown me what it means to love and live, through and beyond the turmoil.

When asked who was running for president of the United States, my four year old was able to name Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump. I think she would probably be able to name them if she was shown their faces. But that’s it. Nothing more. She knew their names and that they were running for president. I’m quite sure she doesn’t even know what President of the United States means. But one thing’s for sure. My four year old has taught me what it means to love and live, purely and simply, even when the world’s going mad.

Let’s learn. Let’s turn our ears towards the young. May we learn something profound, something our soul’s forgotten.

LESSON ON LOVING & LIVING #1: Find ways to compliment people and love on them even if you disagree with them.

This week, my 4-year old daughter wanted to write cards for her friends. She got out a piece of notebook paper and had me fold it into four. Then she got some post-it notes out. She wanted me to help her write notes to her friends, Sydney, Henry, Edry and Rylan, on the post-it notes. I wrote as she dictated. It was pure and simple. One sentence or two. That’s it. A compliment. A way to show her love to her friends and neighbors. Then she signed her name after each one.

Perhaps we can glean wisdom from a four year old’s simple and idealistic world.

Find ways compliment people and and love on them even if you disagree with them.

LESSON ON LOVING & LIVING #2: Surround yourself with diversity.

As I was driving to the gym with my daughter on Thursday, she randomly shared this story. “I have brown hair. My friend has white hair and a white face. My other friend has black hair and a brown face.”

“That is so awesome!” I replied exuberantly. “I’m so proud of you that you have all kinds of friends. It’s fun to have lots of different kind of friends, isn’t it?”

What was most notable about this conversation was that my daughter made that statement with NO judgement. It was a matter of fact. Pure and simple fact. She recognized that her friends were diverse, that they had different physical traits. But she didn’t place any judgement on those differences. There’s something refreshing about that to me. We can recognize differences without casting judgement.

It’s hard to admit, but it’s sometimes easiest to hang out with people who look, act and think like us. But hanging around a monolithic group of people who think, act, and behave EXACTLY like us  doesn’t do anything to expand our worldview. The more we’re able to surround ourselves with diversity or AT LEAST open ourselves up to seeing and hearing the other side, the more likely we’re able to expand and diversify our worldview. Diverse perspectives and worldviews are critical to bridging the great divide.

Perhaps we can glean wisdom from a four year old’s simple and idealistic world.

Surround yourself with diversity.

LESSON ON LOVING & LIVING #3: Create art.

This week, my 4-year-old daughter brought home oodles of art from preschool. Handmade cards with drawings. Colored pages with paper punches lining the sides. Red, purple and pink pieces of construction paper cut into mountains, hills and rectangles. I’ll be honest, I usually throw away a bunch of this stuff because a mom can’t keep everything or it’d lead to boxes upon boxes of memories. But I’m keeping every single one of my daughter’s art pieces from this week. They’ve been gems to me in a week of presidential, political and personal turmoil.

If you make any sort of art, you MUST continue creating during these days of uncertainty. The world desperately needs your art, your perspective, your unique way of expressing love and joy, despair and destitution, anger and peace. The way you see life, the way you express it through your art? It’s important. It’s noteworthy. It’s crucial and life saving. We must continue making art, even when it seems completely pointless. We must continue making art, even when it seems like everyone’s too busy to see it. We must continue making art, even when the world’s gone mad. Keep making art. Keep creating. Keep putting it out there. We need your art more than ever.

Sing. Dance. Paint. Write. Photograph. Collage. Decoupage. Knit. Crochet. Quilt. Sew. Garden. Decorate. Build. Woodwork. Mosaic. Make jewelry and pottery. Whatever it is you do to create art and beauty in this world, do it and keep doing it! We need art now more than ever.

Perhaps we can glean wisdom from a four year old’s simple and idealistic world.

Create art.

Bridge the great divide.

It wasn’t the first time I’d gone through his drive-thru window at McDonald’s.

I knew it wasn’t my first time because of his voice. It was unforgettable.

So when I drove through that window, having recognized “that voice” and “that personality” that captures your attention in an instant, I knew I needed to speak to this man. I needed to know more about him. Because he seemed to love his life. At least, he seemed to love his job. Or maybe he just did a great job making the best of his job.

I told Reno I’d love to contact his supervisor and asked if we could meet someday during his lunch break. I handed him my blog business card through the drive-thru window and promised I’d be in touch.

One week later, we sat down for 20 minutes together during Reno’s lunch break at McDonald’s.

I asked him what made him tick, what made him love his work. Because I’d heard the kindness and the depth of his soul through his voice. I’d seen the fire inside him come straight through that drive-thru window. And it was a beautiful, beautiful fire, like this man is ready to light the world on fire, kind of fire.

That’s when Reno told me. “I beat the odds in my life.”

In 2000, he experienced a house fire. He was 21 years old when that happened. And since then, he’s had a better perspective on life.

Prior to the house fire, he had a job at the YWCA as a child care provider. At that time, he felt the purpose of his life was to provide motivation and direction for younger children who desperately needed it.

After the house fire, he got a job at McDonalds working in the drive-thru.

One day when Reno was working in the drive-thru, a man came through. He’d been through before and had engaged with Reno on several occasions. On this particular day, the man approached Reno with an unexpected offer. “How do you feel about making more money than McDonald’s?” He had lost an employee at his metal finishing business, and was looking for a replacement. He wanted Reno on his team. Reno felt blessed to have been offered this great opportunity, which would also provide him more money than his work at the McDonald’s drive-thru.

So Reno left McDonald’s. And he began working in metal finishing – stripping metal, coating metal, and using a fork lift to transport it here and there. McDonald’s, in the meantime, realized the value Reno added to their business, so they asked him to come back. Now Reno keeps two jobs, one shift at McDonald’s, and another shift at the metal finishing business.

He’s busy “working on bettering himself” and “focusing on responsibilities” and his “well being.” He has five children to provide for – a 6 month old, 7 year old, 12 year old, 14 year old, and 17 year old. He takes his life and responsibilities seriously. I can tell.

Reno shared that he “talks to the man upstairs” and prays “morning, night, anytime.” He feels like he “has a direct connection.” It’s “like HD (high definition),” he says.

Reno’s communication with “the man upstairs” clearly translates to the McDonald’s drive-thru window. Heck, that’s what captured my attention when I came through his window. His voice is incredible, phenomenal, memorable by anyone’s standards. And his personality, just awesome, lovely, delightful. He’s a warm, gentle soul. A man you’d be blessed to engage with any day.

So I wanted to know – what motivates Reno, what keeps him so upbeat in the McDonald’s drive-thru, what’s the philosophy he’s operating under so we can all learn from this man?

Here’s what he said.

Reno is intentional about communicating well with the customers that come through the drive-thru window. He never knows what kind of day they’ve been having, so his goal is to “keep a positive beat.” Even if customers are not responsive, he tries to be “kind and grateful.”

Reno says “I’m kind of like the Dr. Phil of the drive-thru.”

People will change McDonald’s and become “regulars” just because they want to engage with Reno regularly.

I can totally see why people would rearrange their routes to have an opportunity to engage with Reno more regularly. And I can totally see why he’s the “Dr. Phil of the drive-thru.” Because he is. He truly is.

Our conversation was lovely and delightful and I loved every bit of who Reno was, who Reno is. But I had one more question to ask before we parted ways.

I wanted to know what Reno’s ultimate dreams were for his life. I had a hunch those dreams might have something to do with his voice, and I was right. He knew right away – he’d do voiceovers, be a radio DJ, or a motivational speaker.

And with that, I got goose bumps all over. Within seconds, he got goose bumps all over, too. We showed each other our holy goosebumps.

Perhaps we were on to something. Perhaps “the man upstairs” was trying to tell us something that day. Perhaps Reno was made to do voiceovers or become a radio DJ. Or perhaps, just perhaps, he was made to be a motivational speaker.

(Reno, this next part is just for you.)

Perhaps you’ll become a motivational speaker. Perhaps we crossed paths for a reason. Perhaps I’ll see you speak on stage someday. That would be awesome. And if not, I’m confident that you’re motivating people already through that drive-thru. Motivating people to be kind, motivating people to be grateful, motivating people to love, motivating people to live, motivating people to live this day a little differently than they had prior to coming through your line.

So motivate on, Reno. I’m 100% behind you. You are the awesomest.

I do believe your call is to motivate, to love on people with your voice, with who you are.

So motivate on, Reno.

Motivate on.

 

 

The fact that my dad’s lifelong career as band director was never celebrated properly bothered me for eight years straight. So one week ago, I took a leap of faith and wrote a post I hoped would rectify that wrong. When I hit publish, I had no idea what the outcome would be, but I did it anyway.

Today, I’m happy to announce that my hopes and dreams for that post came true. The response was greater than I imagined. The outpouring of support? Tremendous, amazing, absolutely incredible.

As of this afternoon…

7,200 people saw the post in their Facebook feed

615 people read the post on the blog

41 people “liked” the post on Facebook

38 people left a personal message for my dad on the blog

27 people shared the post on their personal Facebook page

and…

1 person (my dad, aka Mr. Femling) left a note of thanks for all who made the week so special for him:

“Your comments have raised my spirits immeasurably! It’s easy to get down when you have pulmonary fibrosis and can’t play the trumpet like you used to. I wear oxygen tanks all of the time now so I can still get around and play golf. I always wanted to die directing the band when everything was clicking, as it did many times with you guys, or playing golf. I almost got my wish when I had a heart attack on hole #3 at the [golf course] about 6 weeks ago. As depression started to set in your comments lifted me up and made me want to fight on! The “wall of sound” you created gave me the “chills” many times as do the memories of those times do now. Thanks to my daughter Amy for this great retirement party and to all of my fantastic band students. [Mr. Femling]  JUNE 18, 2014 – 8:07 PM”

I have to admit, I’ve learned some lessons this week. Publishing that post and seeing the positive outcomes was eye opening for sure.

So what have I learned?

1) Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Sometimes there’s just no getting around it. When I published that post, I had NO idea what the response would be. I had no idea how it would “perform.” I had no proof, no evidence to suggest the post would be a success. For all I knew, the post could’ve died flat on its face. But something told me that wasn’t going to happen. I just had a feeling, a suspicion that it had the potential to produce the outcomes I desired for my dad. So I took a leap of faith. And it worked. Sometimes, in order to get the outcomes we desire, in order for God to produce the outcomes in our lives that He desires for us, we need to take leaps of faith.

2) People really can be amazing. And once in a while? They’ll not only meet, but greatly exceed all of your expectations. If you’ve been around this blog for a while, you’ve heard me talk about expectations. About four years ago, I became very aware of a fault I’ve carried for a lifetime. The expectations I have for myself and the expectations I have of others are simply way too high. Well, let me just say that all of my expectations were met and exceeded with this blog post for my dad! People showed up. They spent time leaving messages that were detailed, heartfelt, and kind. They acted when they could’ve sat idle. They cared when they could’ve chosen to care less. It was a true honor for me, my dad, and my entire family to read the messages people left on the blog. The outpouring of love and support was amazing, each and every perspective unique, and all together an honoring, perfect picture of my dad’s character and career as band director.

3) Words are powerful. I love words. And I take them seriously, probably more seriously than most. In fact, I’d say that when it boils down to it, words might just be the point of my life. Words can lift up, and words can tear down. We choose our words. Yes, we choose our words. We choose how and when to use them, and with whom to share them. If you go in to that blog post for my dad, dig deep in the comments, read each word, and ponder the true meaning of it all, you’ll be astounded, overwhelmed by the content that was communicated in that space. Words have immense power. Why are we careless with words, throwing them around as if they don’t mean anything, joking as if it won’t hurt anyone, blaming when maybe it’s nobody’s fault at all. Why do we withhold words when they have the power to heal, bring peace, joy, encouragement? Why don’t we love, lift each other up, tend to one another with words more often? Why don’t we consider the holy weight of words, every one important, every one filled with possibility?

Yes, these are just a few of the things I learned from the post I published in honor of my dad’s career as a band director. So today, I rest in peace, acknowledging publicly that the post was a success.

Together, we provided a little joy, a little hope, a little reassurance and blessing for my dad, Mr. Femling, in the midst of times that have been tough.

Words of gratitude are extended generously to those of you who read, responded, and replied to the post. You recognized and restored dignity to a man who deserved it.

Amy

**If you haven’t read the post I wrote in honor of my dad’s career as band director, I strongly encourage you to do so! You’ll find it here, at In Which I’m Throwing a Retirement Party for My Dad, Mr. Femling!

On June 12, 2013, I spent 1 hour 45 minutes drafting a blog post I wanted to publish for Father’s Day in honor of my dad, known to many of you as Mr. Femling. I had a plan in mind, a vision of what I wanted to do for my dad. But there came a time, even after all the effort I put into writing that draft, that I felt overwhelmed. This was too big of a task for one person to take on. Emotions and uncertainty stirred up in me as I got further into the post. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to complete the post, publish it, and execute my plan, but I just wasn’t sure. So I dropped it.

The blog post has been sitting in my draft archives for a year, but it hasn’t escaped my mind.

One month ago, I approached my husband and shared what I wanted to do for my dad. I considered the possibility of dedicating a chunk of time for it on the blog in June, maybe even make it a series. But the way I had it all planned out in my mind felt too big, required far too much planning, and the outcome wasn’t guaranteed. While my husband appreciated my thoughtfulness, he assured me that repairing this piece of history wasn’t my responsibility, so after much thought, I decided once again to drop the concept.

But the blog post still hasn’t escaped my mind.

I still feel compelled to act.

So let’s get right to it!

Father’s Day is in two days.

My dad has a rare lung disease and recently had a heart attack. He’s not felt well since.

My dad has been retired for eight years, but I think most people would agree that the end of his career as a public school band director was less than ideal. I won’t attempt to explain, but quite honestly, it was a challenging time for my dad and our family. We tried to help my dad process and manage an unexpected ending to his lifelong career as band director, but by the time he officially retired, we were also two years in to the worst of my sister’s battle with addiction and mental illness.

All of this to say that I believe my dad was not given a proper retirement celebration. None of us had an opportunity to celebrate and honor my dad’s awesome career!

Another thing I regret is that I never got to see him direct his last concert. Under normal circumstances, performing and attending his last concert would have been a big deal.

It’s been eight years since my dad’s retirement, so you’d think I would have gotten over this by now. But it’s always bothered me that he never got the celebration and acknowledgement he deserved for all the years he put in as a band director.

I’ve feared that my dad will pass away someday having NEVER heard first hand the awesome ways he touched peoples’ lives through his role as band director. I’ve feared that my dad will pass away someday with sadness remaining in his heart about the way his career ended. I’ve feared that there will never be true closure for my dad or our family. I’ve feared that I will regret having never done anything about it, that I’ll carry this burden to my own death bed, wishing I would’ve done something to honor and celebrate my dad’s career.

With that in mind, my dad deserves one gift and it’s long overdue.

So today, I’m taking action.

Today, I honor and celebrate my dad!

Today, I turn pain into peace, regrets into closure, make wrongs right.

Today, let’s open our hearts and celebrate a man who passionately pursued his career. Let’s recognize a man who showed up at work, with honor, every single day. Let’s give praise to a man who went above and beyond, a man who communicated without hesitation the integrity and excellence he expected from his students. Let’s let him know his passion was worth the pursuit.

Today, I’m throwing a belated retirement party for my dad! It’s happening right here, right now, in this place, on this space, right here on this blog.

Yes, it’s unconventional. Yes, some will most certainly think it’s odd.

Yes, it’s spontaneous and NOT the way I usually do things. I don’t know the outcome and I don’t know if word of this virtual retirement party will spread like I want it to.

But I’m taking the risk anyway – for my dad.

I can’t change the past, but I can change how I respond to it.

Today, I fight for justice, do what’s right for the sake of another human being who happens to be my dad.

So here’s how this is going to work!

1) Please share this blog post on your Facebook page so as many people can read the post and participate as possible. If you know my dad and/or live(d) in one of the three cities where he taught, take special note. I need you to spread the word. Simple word of mouth will work, but you’ll have to share the name and URL of my website, Divine In The Daily at www.amybethpederson.com. Thank you in advance for your help. The more we get this post out, the more well wishes my dad will receive and the more fun memories he’ll be able to relive.

2) Please leave your messages and well wishes for my dad right here on the blog! Write what you would’ve written in a greeting card if you would’ve been invited to a retirement party for my dad. Be brave. Be bold. Be positive and encouraging, loving and kind. Share memories you have about my dad when he was your colleague, your band director, or your childrens’ band director. There are two ways to leave messages for my dad on the blog. (Scroll down a little further and you’ll find the comments below this post.) You can leave a message in the Facebook comments section of my blog. If you leave a message using that method, my dad will be able to see your picture and respond to you directly. If you don’t have a Facebook account and/or prefer to be more anonymous, you can also leave a wish for my dad in the regular comments section!

3) If you feel strongly about maintaining confidentiality, but would still like to send my dad a message, please feel free to email me your letters at amybpederson@hotmail.com and I will be sure to forward all messages to my dad.

4) I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to get some pictures from my dad’s years teaching band. If you have a picture of my dad (and you?!) at any point during his band directing years and are willing to give me permission to use it, I would love a digital copy to include on the blog. I realize my dad retired before digital photography became popular, so simply take a photograph of the photograph, and send it to me via email. All photographs can be emailed to amybpederson@hotmail.com. *If you email me a photograph, I assume you also give me permission to share it publicly within the body of this blog post! I am looking for oldies, but goodies! Please send as many photographs as you’d like! This could be great fun for my dad. Marching band, pep band, concerts, solo and ensemble contests, jazz bands, staff or department parties, whatever!

5) If you have any other creative ideas for making this even more fun, please feel free to send me a message with your idea(s) at amybpederson@hotmail.com. Want to make a cake and send it to my dad? Great idea. Want to bring dinner to my parents or send a gift card so they can go out to eat? Great idea. Want to send balloons and flowers? Great idea. Want to dig up some old VHS footage of concerts and transfer it to DVD so we can have it to view for a lifetime? Great! Have connections and know the person who has footage of the last concert my dad directed? AWESOME. WE WANT A COPY. Please share.

6) Return to the site throughout the week. I will leave this post at the top of my homepage for at least one week, so it will be easy to find. If all goes well, people will be posting new messages for my dad throughout the week. And I’ll be adding fun photographs you won’t want to miss! So come, mingle, peruse, share memories and enjoy the fun!

So that’s about it! As I type this, I admit, I’m more than a little nervous. There are no guaranteed outcomes. But I believe, whether five people respond or 50 respond, they have something to say that will bring my dad joy, peace and freedom.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Thank you in advance for the kind words you’re about to leave for my dad. Because he deserves to hear how awesome he was, how awesome he is.

May this post be filled with words of encouragement, of blessing, of thanks and gratitude for a man whose career as band director was amazing, incredible and remarkable.

And before I leave this space to y’all, I’ll start us off on the right note! Our son started band lessons this week, and guess what he decided to play? Trumpet.

Amy (Mr. Femling’s daughter)

THANKS FOR THE SUBMITTED PHOTOS!

The Marvelous Mirage rock band, together after 42 years! Photo taken October 6, 2013. Submitted by Tiffany Femling.

Photographs of the 1988-89 school year! Submitted by Joel Kosman

The reason I came on this trip with Compassion International was to meet our two sponsored children, Djino and Bethchaida. And I was so excited to meet them. But I have to admit, when I found out, just six days before my departure, that the “fun day” with our sponsored children was going to be at a hotel, a tentativeness stirred in me.

I worried that the children and families who lived in such extreme poverty would feel great sadness entering into such luxury only to have to leave at the end of the day. God placed a burden on my heart to make this day a great gift. Yvonne, our trip leader and Compassion representative, had reminded us the night before that “this day is about the kids.” So I tried to keep that in mind. I wanted to live the day for the kids. I wanted it to be a very special occasion, a gift for the families and accompanying Compassion country staff.

So after we met and took a tour of the facility, after I discovered that Djino had woken up at 1:00 a.m. and traveled SIX hours to get here and Bethchaida had traveled SIX AND A HALF hours down from the mountains on a motorcycle to get here, all eight of us (me, 1 translator, two Compassion country staff, an auntie, a mama, and 2 sponsored children) played a table game I brought from home. It went swimmingly well, and was a time of laughter and bonding over a singular purpose.

We were going to play another round, but Bethchaida said she was hungry. Mom concurred that Bethchaida hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning because they were in such an unfamiliar place. Djino piped in, he was hungry too. We agreed to go eat.

I had purchased tickets for food from the front desk, so I let the children know they could order what they wanted. Bethchaida chose a ham and cheese sandwich. Djino chose a cheeseburger with bacon. Bethchaida’s mom and Compassion staff agreed they would share with Bethchaida. Five Sprites and 1 Coke later, we’d placed our order for those who wanted to eat. The translator, a lovely man, also Haitian, had already decided on the Coke, but politely asked me when we sat down at the table if he could get a hot dog, too. “Of course, of course,” I said, and left to place the extra order.

They ate.

This eating soon after they arrived wasn’t what I planned or expected to do. But they ate every bite. And I couldn’t help but think about Jesus and His call for us to feed the hungry. And I couldn’t stop thinking about that pyramid we all learned in Psychology 101. Human beings need food first. Then, once that is provided, they’re freed up to focus on higher order needs such as education, socialization, emotional development and spirituality.

So today, I learned firsthand – before anything else – we need to feed the hungry. Hunger is real.

We feed those who are hungry, we nourish souls.

When bodies are fed, souls are nourished.

Little girls emerge with confidence, step out with dignity knowing this bathing suit was chosen especially for them. They’re empowered to try something new, encouraged without anyone having to say it out loud. That dream? That hope you had earlier in the day to swim? Today, that dream will become reality. God has the power to make His dreams reality for you, too. He will help you be grateful and say “I love my life.” No matter what it throws at me.

Boys emerge with courage, stepping out into the great unknown. That fear you had? That not wanting to swim because you didn’t know how and you thought you’d just watch on the sidelines? Today, you overcame your fears. Today, rest assured young boy, that God has the power to release you from all fear. He can and will claim victory over your fears. Go in the deep, young boy, go in the deep.

When bodies are fed, souls are nourished.

Little boys and little girls, aunties and mamas and staff working hard on the ground know – God’s desire is for abundance. He wants you to receive this taste of heaven. This plate filled higher than you’ve ever seen? It doesn’t even come close to the peace and joy and love you’ll receive when you enter the gates of heaven.

Yes, that is the burden we have to feed those who are hungry. We must let them know – you are worthy, He invites you to His table, He prepares a banquet for you, He provides what is needed –  for today. Your worries are not for tomorrow, for He provides for today.

When bodies are fed, souls are nourished.

Men and women reveal bits of God’s dreams for their lives. The dreams, they seem impossible. But they agree, they believe, God can do anything. If God wants to make these dreams reality, He will do it. No matter what. For ALL things are possible with God, through Christ. Though distance and circumstance may separate, God’s dreams unite His people.

When bodies are fed, souls are nourished.

God’s people share what they have with one another.

God says – I’ve blessed you with love, insight, sensitivity, and an abundance of resources – GO GIVE IT AWAY.

God says – I’ve blessed you with love, humility, graciousness, goodness, kindness and faithfulness – GO GIVE IT AWAY.

Whatever we have, He wants us to give it away.

This is what it means to give it away.

Feed those who are hungry.

Nourish their souls.

Reach out, and tell a mama – who rode 6 1/2 hours on a motorcycle with her baby girl, who bought the most beautiful dress at the market in Port-Au-Prince just because her baby girl was meeting her sponsor – you are so worthy of this abundance. It’s God’s abundant love for you. He wants you to have it. He wants you to receive it. He wants you to know, this is His special taste of heaven. Just for you.

If you’d love to feed those who are hungry and sponsor a child through Compassion, please click here to see the photographs of beautiful children waiting for a sponsor. I promise you, your sponsorship would be a gift.

Amy

*This is part of a month-long series about my journey to Haiti. Click here to read all the posts in the series.