Twenty-one years ago today, my family and I piled into a little Cessna airplane with everything our suitcase could fit, and flew into an unknown future.  What I thought was a quick trip to the neighboring country of Kenya, became a stepping stone to the final leg of our journey to the United States.  What I thought would be temporary, turned into permanent, and I never went back to my cherished and idyllic home of Nyankunde.  It has changed my life in  many ways.  I am thankful for my heritage, the obedience of my parents to move to Africa and raise their four children there, give me a childhood worth more than gold, and yes, even for the abrupt uprooting 21 years ago.  I have learned so much from these experiences.  More than a few sentences can say.  I am thankful for the memories of Nyankunde, and of how it shaped my life and my heart into who I am today.  

Our house at Nyankunde.  My bedroom was the far left, looking at the house.

My sister, Sherry, and I on our way to buy something from the little market.  I am sticking out my tongue because I very clearly remember that my mom told me to go put a skirt on before we left.  I am wearing shorts underneath my skirt.  I usually did.

The view from the front of our house.

The view from my bedroom window.  The hills which surrounded our station always thrilled me.