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The basket of love

Dad used to talk about how he felt like he was being carried in a basket of people’s love and prayers. In a different way, and with different love and prayers, I have felt the same way about the kids and I over the past few months.

We landed here with our bags, knowing we were here to stay, but knowing that everything else was not only out of our control, but scary as hell. Before  my uncle met us at the airport we were held in our own basket of love. My uncle, aunt, and cousins had worked like mad getting the old house ready for us. This wonderful, perfect for us, old house.

Dad was sick and in the hospital, but he got well enough to get released and to give us two more very precious months with him. Months that changed me forever and although they were painful, I am a better person for walking through this.

God picked up my kids and carried them to the perfect school for us. Not only is it a Christian school – faith being something we all have desperately needed to carry with us lately, but it is small, and we have members of our tribe there. I was able to leave my kids with them with the knowledge that they were safe and loved. And actually, the way they were loved and held onto there when their world here was so sad and uncertain was absolutely amazing. It’s left me with gratitude I can’t properly express. They were safe and they were loved. Not only that but they had fun and learned stuff too!

That basket of love has served us well.

My happiness moment today was sitting out in my yard visiting with my mom. It’s a beautiful day here, the birds are singing loudly, my flowers are beautiful, the vegetables are coming up. The kids were running between houses with their cousins laughing and playing. It’s a perfect summer day. I’m so thankful I get to have visits with my mom. We have been away too long from our tribe. I’m thankful every day we are back in it.

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