There is always a point in the preparations where doubt creeps in. Before heading to Peru, I worried that I had not packed what I needed, that I had nothing to teach, that I was naive. Before flying to France, I nearly panicked at hearing the airplane announcements in french. Before traveling to Ireland, I was terrified at the thought of losing myself along the winding roads, Before running away to Spain for the first time, I was simply tired of being alone. Before heading to Thailand, I was afraid to never be alone again and before wandering back to Spain to find Santiago, I worried that I was not strong enough... In all cases, I was right.. and wrong.
In Peru, thanks to a pick-pocket, I learned that I could survive for six weeks on $200. I also learned that the best way to pass time is to go on a chocolate eating binge with giggling orphans. In France, I learned that it is always right to follow love because even if it doesn't work out, the lavender still smells lovely. In Ireland, I learned that getting lost is half the fun. In Spain I learned that there are friends to be found everywhere. In Thailand, I learned to embrace colors and chaos, and while walking across Spain to St. James I learned that one is never too weak to be lifted up or too strong to be humbled.
I am in the doubting phase of my preparations right now. I am making endless lists and packing and packing again. I am studying maps and languages while trying to decide on daily stages. I am attempting to prepare for every possibility yet still feeling like a student headed to a final for which I haven't even begun to study. And all the while, I know that as soon as my feet hit the ground, my well laid plans will scatter on the wind. With Hanuman around my neck, Saint James pushing at my back, Italy under my feet, the Mediterranean always to my right and Saint Peter as my lodestone, I will walk.
Details.. Oh, the Details!!
My husband and I will be leaving in a week for Europe, where we will visit Genevieve (with whom I shared many adventures on the way to Santiago.) On June 29th, my husband will head back to our lovely Chicago and I will begin walking from Nice, through Monaco, into Italy and onward to Rome in an effort to discover Italy while raising money for Almost Home Kids.
As I have mentioned before, Almost Home Kids is an organization close to my heart because as a young girl, I witnessed my little sister's fight to live and I watched my mother cope with losing a child. I saw first hand the effects of a family fracturing as a result of the chaos, strain and eventual hollow quiet of caring for a little one whose time was fragile and far too short. However, years later as I walked through the Chicago doors of “Almost Home Kids,” I saw another possibility for families such as mine. I saw refuge, love, laughter, hope, calm and normalcy. I saw an organization that provides education and support to families stretched to their limits. I saw a place that cares for medically fragile children by not just seeing to their physical needs, but also by feeding their need to simply be children.
So, as I pack my tent, restring my ukulele and prepare to put one foot in front of the other (for a very long time..) I ask for your support for all of the young angels at Almost Home Kids! And for those of you who have already donated... You have made my step lighter. You have some serious good karma coming your way!! Thank you so much!!
To Donate...
And for more info on this amazing organization...
How do I tell her that she can't come :(
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