Everybody, Cut Loose!

If you’ve met me, you probably know that I have a place in my heart for all things 80s. Music. Movies. Celebrities. Fashion. Everything.

When I first heard that one of my dear classics, Footloose, was being remade, I was angry. How could they re-make it? I’m always skeptical about sequels and prequels, and remakes are usually worse in my book. I didn’t have high expectations at all, but I’ll admit that when I saw the previews start to come out a few weeks ago, I was pretty excited. I think one of the things that was pretty evident (even from the previews) is that they didn’t re-write the story, they just retold it.

So last night, I ventured out with some friends for dinner and Footloose. From the moment it started and I saw those feet dancing across the screen, I was sold. They took my classic Footloose and gave it a 2011 makeover. There were a few things that were blaringly different about the storyline, but nothing major. Ren’s mom died of cancer and that’s how he ended up in Bomont. They actually show the car crash that sends the town into a tizzy. They race busses instead of play chicken with tractors. They didn’t alter anything that was actually part of the storyline, they just made it a little more modern.

With little nods throughout the film, the story holds true to the original we all know and love. Whether it was Ariel’s red boots, some of the same silly dance moves, covers of songs from the original, or quotes delivered line for line, there were subtle reminders throughout that made my heart happy. I felt like the director purposely put them in there to show us all that he too was a huge fan of the original Footloose.

Kenny Wormold and Julianne Hough did a great job, but I think what had me sold on their performance was really just their ability to dance. And what’s a dancing movie without dancers? Miles Teller totally did Willard (originally played by Sean Penn) justice! But with the rest of the cast, the acting wasn’t that great. With Reverend Moore and Vi in particular, their lines just didn’t come across as sincere as they did in the original. Of course, they’re being compared to John Lithgow and Diane Wiest, but still, it’s Dennis Quaid and Andie MacDowell we’re talking about, not some no-name actors.

While the original will always hold a piece of my heart, this remake is definitely worth a watch (or two)! Maybe Footloose 2011 will mean to this generation what it meant to so many of us growing up in the 80s. Sometimes you just have to dance! The classic will always hold a place in my heart, but this 2011 version will definitely have you wanting to dance in the aisles. And that’s a guarantee.

Autumn

“Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.”

Warrior Dash

DJ, Jenn and I headed out to Manchester, TN and participated in the Warrior Dash this weekend.  It was a ton of fun!  I highly recommend doing it if you ever get the chance.
Find out more here: http://www.warriordash.com/

Right before the race

Right after the race

After we got hosed down by firefighters

Hope

Here's the Hope video we showed.  Special thanks to Alyssa Jiosa for creating both videos. :)

Need

Here's one of the videos we showed at the Africa event. 

The Launch of Jacaranda Kids

Since our return back to the states, me and a few people from our team have been incredibly busy launching a sponsorship program for some of the children we met. The Jacaranda Kids program allows sponsorship for the children of the women who sew with Jacaranda Ministries. Through sponsorship ($35 a month), they’re provided tuition for school, a uniform, school supplies, textbooks, and at least one meal a day. We launched this program at our Africa event last Friday night and we already have 27 kids sponsored! It's so exciting to see something like this come to fruition.  It makes my heart very happy!

If you'd like more information about the Jacaranda Kids Sponsorship program, I'm more than happy to share with you! 

One Night In Africa

Please come and invite your friends! It's going to be an amazing night full of stories and photos and fun!

An Education

On our second day in Marurui, I ended up captivated by some middle school students.  It was a Saturday afternoon.  They had school that morning, but they were still there when we arrived doing extra studies.  When I walked into the school yard, about 20 of them huddled around me like I was the craziest thing they'd seen.

"Do you know Obama?"

"Did you study Swahili in school?

"Why are you white?"

"Why do you have freckles?"

"Why isn't your hair kinky?"

The questions were rapid fire.  They had me completely surrounded.  All I could do was answer and as soon as I answered, another question was being fired my way.  This went on for a good 15 minutes and I loved every minute of it.

Two girls grabbed each of my hands and asked me to follow them to their classroom.  "Amy, please come see our classroom!"  How could I resist.  I did ask them if it was okay, and of course they assured me it was.  Uncertain of whether or not it was appropriate, I climbed the skinny stairwell holding the hands of two girls who walked in front of me.  We got to the top and turned the corner to the left.  They led me into a tiny classroom about 12x20 (much bigger than I expected).  There were about 20 square, wooden desks, each with their own personality.  Each of the girls showed me their desks and looked up at me with the biggest eyes and smiles I've seen in a long time.  The fact that I was paying attention to them and that I cared enough to go upstairs with them and spend time with them was so huge to each one of them.

"Will you sing us a song?"

If you know me at all, you know this is when I become petrified.  These girls kidnapped me so I could sing to them?  That's absolutely insane!

"Umm...I don't really have a very pretty voice.  We should go back downstairs and ask Beth to sing for us.  She is really good!"

"No!  We want you to sing to us!"  The chanting and pleading continued.

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Amazing Grace!!"

I knew I had to face my fear, so I bargained with them.

"I'll only sing it if you sing with me."

"OKAY!!"

I looked around first to make sure someone wasn't setting me up, then I took a deep breath and mustered up enough courage to start singing "Ahh-maaazing Grace how sweet the sound..."

We sang the first verse and I wiped the sweat off my forehead.  I don't have a good voice and I've never pretended to.  But they didn't care.  It didn't matter.  To them, it was beautiful.

Once we were finished singing, just in case I hadn't been taken out of my comfort zone enough, a girl stepped out and asked me if she could teach me a dance.  Really?  Me?  At this point, I knew God was giggling at me.  So I laughed.  And I danced.  Because that's all I could really do.

The boys started filtering back in to the classroom.  They asked questions and I answered.  I asked questions and they answered.  I asked about their studies and what they were learning.  We took some pictures.

8th Grade Class

8th Grade Class 

I had been upstairs with them for about 20 minutes and I was starting to wonder if everyone had left me yet.  I asked if they wanted to go back outside and we started down the steps.  But a big booming voice yelled "Get back in your classroom!"  So I hugged them goodbye and went back outside on my own.

The minute I stepped foot back on that playground, I was surround by a large group of 7th graders.  I had some kind of middle school magnet that day.  I honestly have no idea what it was about me, but they were flocking to me.  Just as before, this group was incredibly inquisitive.  Again, I was asked if I knew Obama (Those Kenyans LOVE Obama!).  They asked a lot of questions about life in America...houses, school, classes, university.  They were so intrigued that I didn't learn Swahili in school, but I did learn Spanish.  Again, I was asked to sing...this time, the National Anthem.  This time I wasn't alone, so I made Lauryn come sing it with me (as awful as it probably was, I really wish this was on video somewhere!).

When it was time to leave, they all piled around me and gave me huge hugs.  There were two girls, Stephanie and Bernice that hugged me tight and told me that they would never forget me.  And I am most certain that I won't forget them.

7th Grade Class

One thing that I learned on this trip is the huge importance of an education.  Education in Kenya is not free.  It actually costs hundreds of dollars a year.  Most Kenyans can't afford to send their children to school and even if they can, they usually have multiple children and can't afford to send them all.  Can you imagine having to choose which of your children to send to school?  Which child do you pick to have a better life?  Because without an education, these kids won't be able to get a good job, won't be able to make enough money to support their families, won't be able to send their children to school.  And the vicious cycle continues.

We have gotten the blessing to start a sponsorship program for the children of the women who sew with Jacaranda.  We have been working hard to get this off the ground.  Over the next few weeks, we will have most of the details worked out and I'll be sharing them with you.  This is something I'm so excited about seeing come to fruition!  Please start praying that we are able to sponsor these children.  To provide them an education, a brighter future, and hope.  We can make a difference!

A Visit to Maasai Land

We loaded up the vans and headed out to into the bush to visit one of the Maasai villages.  We were told it would only take about an hour and a half.  I'm not sure how long it took us, but it was definitely longer than that.  The ride was super bumpy, the roads were super curvy.   We drove over rocks the size of small animals.

In the last little town we passed through, we picked up a driver with a huge black water tank who drove ahead of us the rest of the way there.

At one point, our van had a really hard time getting up the steep hill over the rocks that jutted out through the dark earth.  Kind of kidding, Dave asked if we needed to get out.  But after the third unsuccessful attempt, we all climbed out of the van.  Our driver drove ahead of us as we climbed the dusty hill.

 The view from where we got out of the van and walked

We finally got to the church!  The guys unloaded the water tank that had been donated from California.  The pastor was so excited!

The children from a nearby school walked to visit us.  They sang a few songs for us and did some dancing.  They were absolutely adorable.  One of the women sang for us.  Then we sang a few songs for them (which I'm sure was quite amusing).

After we were finished, we went back outside the church.  The women had set up some of their jewelry to show us.  The kids were excited to just have us there.  The flies were swarming.  It reminded me of pictures and commercials I've seen my whole life.  But I've never seen anything like that in person.  Garry told us that he has seen the flies so bad that you could physically see them laying eggs in the kids eyelashes.

We were invited to visit the home of Pastor Amos and his wife Lillian and their family.  We walked out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere...just bushes and lots of dirt.  I honestly don't know how in the world they remember where they live or how to get there.  Eventually, we get to a small area with a fence made from wooden posts.  Inside the fence were two small huts made of a dung and mud mixture. The roof was made of tin with rocks holding it down on top.  Their goats mingled in the distance.  We were invited to go inside the home.  Only a few of us could fit at a time. I crouched down to walk in.  Once I turned the corner, it was pitch black inside.  There was one large room with two beds (I think...It was really hard to tell) and a small place to cook.  After our eyes adjusted a little, we realized there were other people in there and we didn't even know!

It's so humbling to be invited into their homes.  To see a peek into their lives.  It makes me realize how much I have that is truly not important.  Of course, I'm thankful for everything I have...but how much is really necessary.  While their lives seem so simple, sometimes I long for a little simplicity.  Not too much, but just a little. :)

How He Loves Us

We drove back to Marurui today.  I have fallen in love with that place.  As soon as we piled out of the van, the kids were already coming out to meet us.  They flocked around us, finding anyone with a free hand and taking it in theirs.  At one time, I had two kids trying to hold my left hand.  Another girl was  holding tight to my right hand with both of hers, as if someone else might come along and try to snatch it up. She kept tugging at the hair on my hand and on my arm and kept rubbing the back of my hand and pointing at my freckles.

Along the path, we stopped and Beth and Joby led us in How He Loves.  As we sang, I looked around and saw the beauty in of all of us singing.  Kenyans.  Americans.  Dark skin.  Light skin.  Men.  Women.  Children.  And I thought that it must be what heaven will be like.  But without the hurt, without the pain.

And we sang:


I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.


And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

 Beth and Joby leading us in song

We walked to one of the schools we had been at a few days before.  We pulled out the jump ropes and those kids went CRAZY!  It was like a mad dash to anyone holding a white Nakumatt bag.  To any kid who was lucky enough to be handed one of those jump ropes, it was like winning the lottery. It's so crazy that something as simple as a jump rope is so exciting.

 Passing out jump ropes at one of the school

 All the kids come to meet us

 Walking through Marurui

(An excerpt from my journal entry Saturday, June 11, 2011)

The Nest

Our team got an opportunity to spend an afternoon at an orphanage, The Nest. The children in this particular facility were all abandoned for different reasons.  26 children in total.  The smallest child was only one month old.  His mother died giving birth.  He was HIV positive.  I watched that tiny baby breathing, his chest falling and rising, sleeping in his small crib.  There were three other babies sleeping right beside him.  I pray that he will have a chance at life.  That someone will want him.  That someone will love him.  That someone will tell him he's special.

The children there were taken care of.  Probably not to American standards, but you could tell they were.

The kids were sleeping when we got there, so we got a tour of the facility and got hear a little the orphanage.  Once the kids woke up, they changed them and brought them out one by one.  They brought out one baby after the next until each of us had our own.  My baby was sweet.  She had a huge smile.  As she breathed in and out, I could feel the vibrations of something bronchial.  But she was happy.  She smiled a huge smile.  She was just content with being held.  They all were so sweet.  They asked us to stay and feed them, so of course, we did.  

Below are a few photos from the day.  

 Feeding my sweet baby

 Those kids loved Dave

All of us playing with the babies

 Joby holding one of the children

 Lauryn feeding one of the babies

 Cooper with one of the babies (Look at those eyes!)

Jessica playing with one of the babies

Meet Theresa and Grace

Me and Theresa

I first met Theresa and her granddaughter, Grace, the first day we were in Marurui.  Theresa was translating for us in a couple of the homes.  It was Grace's 3rd birthday.  Brenda suggested we give her a juice box to make her day special.  

Sunday at church, Theresa came and found me and told me that Grace had been looking for me and that she wanted to play with me.  So I gladly took her into my arms.  She giggled.  Then, Theresa asked her to recite to me her memory verse.  In a tiny munchkin voice, she said:

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have everlasting life. - John 3:16

Me and Grace

After Theresa walked away, I tried to get Grace to repeat it because it was so adorable and I wanted to capture it on video.  I later found out that she doesn't know English very well, so that's why she wouldn't do it for me.  We played for a long time.  She chased me around the trees, we jumped rope, we sat on the swing.

Later in the week, we had a conference for the women who sew with Jacaranda.  Theresa was telling me her story.  Her daughter (Grace's mother) was unable to take care of Grace, so she abandoned her.  She said that she took in her
granddaughter and began to care for her as her own.  During this conversation, Rhonda came up and she began telling us that Grace had been sick and she had taken her to a clinic.  They had given her medicine, but it didn't work to get rid of what was wrong and now Grace didn't seem sick, but she had a bad smell coming from her nose.  I had actually noticed this the first day I held her.  She looked much cleaner than the other kids and her clothes weren't covered in dirt.  But she smelled.  It was a foul smell and it was very strong.   She was asking Rhonda (who is an RN) what she should do.  Rhonda told her that she needed to go back to the clinic and tell the doctor that the medicine didn't work.  It had been two months since Grace first got sick.

I found Grace and took her over to Rhonda.  She said that more than likely, Grace had a sinus infection that had turned into a fungus. Maybe the medicine they gave her wasn't strong enough, or it wasn't treated correctly, but it had continued to worsen.

Please pray for Grace - that she is able to get the proper treatment that she needs to feel better. Pray for Theresa to have continued strength for raising Grace.  She seems to be doing a great job, but I'm sure she will need encouragement.  Pray for women who are in similar situations where they don't know what to do or how to handle or pay for medical treatment.  It's not easy for them to be able to get to the clinic, or to pay for it if they're able to.  And even then, they're not guaranteed proper treatment.

Meet Sharon

I honestly don’t know very much about Sharon other than her name and her age.  She kept telling me that I had the most beautiful hair she’d ever seen.  So of course, I took it out of the ponytail it was in and let her play with it.  I mean, if there’s an eight year old telling you that you’re so pretty and have beautiful hair, I bet you’d do the same.  Even though I don’t know a lot about her, I know that she was so happy that we were there that day.  Sharon just needed love.  But as she put her dark hand into my pale, white hand I felt just as much love from her. 

Meet Rose (One of the Many)

Jacaranda Creations is a sewing ministry the Keans started within the slums of Nairobi to give women a skill and a way to provide for their family (instead of brew making and prostitution that are so common).  The women that sew (or stitch, as they call it) with Jacaranda are not only taught how to sew, but are also able to live life with each other and have Bible study and discipleship together.  I fell in love with this ministry and these women. 

Me and Rose with my bag

After visiting the Jacaranda office in Marurui, I noticed a fun fabric that I loved.  I even pointed it out to a couple of the girls and told them how much I loved it.  When we went to visit Tassia slum and met the women who sew for Jacaranda there, I noticed that there was a bag that was finished in the same fabric.  I asked who made it.  Out from the group, a sweet lady states that she is the one that made it.  She was incredibly soft spoken and seemed very shy.  I told her that I wanted to buy the bag and that I had seen that same fabric the day before and loved it.  She smiled.  

I told Rose that I would always remember her and that I would be praying for her.  She was very excited I was getting to take the bag home.   

Rose needs prayer.  It is very hard for the women in Tassia.  They have a ton of work set out for them each day before they even begin sewing.  They have to carry their pedal sewing machines through the slum each day...walking through mud, trash, and waste to get to the small grassy area of the church they use to sew.  The church is partially covered on one end with no walls.  They can put up walls, so they can leave the sewing machines there locked up, but there is fear that as soon as they make the building nicer, that the landlord will take it away from them.  Once the women reach this area, they are able to begin work on their items.  Once their day of stitching is complete, they carry the machines back through the slum.  I can't imagine how discouraging that must be for them to do this day after day.

Walking through Tassia

The church where the women in Tassia sew

Meet Virginia (and Kevin and Beatrice)

Virginia held a special place in my heart even before this trip began.  I heard her story while I was having coffee with Rhonda back in October.  Rhonda met Virginia on her trip two summers ago.  When she first met Virginia, she was making brew in her home in the slum and spent most of her days drunk (When I say "brew" I'm talking about a very unnatural drink, not beer - It was dark and murky looking, made in a large pot with pieces of burlap and other unknown objects floating in it).  She came to know Christ while Rhonda and Brenda were visiting and reading her Bible to her.  Her two youngest children were very sick and they ended up taking them to the clinic.   Kevin was a year old and weighed 11 pounds. They were not expecting him to make it because he was dying from malnourishment.  Beatrice was 4 and had pneumonia.

I was excited to meet Virginia because I'd heard of the transformation in her life and I wanted to see it.  We went into Virginia's home trying to fit everyone in so no one would miss hearing her story.  We heard the story of Rhonda and Brenda's visit two years ago and the impact knowing that God loves her.  She told us how she felt that day before giving her life to Christ.  She was sad.  Empty.  She didn't know how she could take care of her kids and she didn't want to.  She told us that she hoped baby Kevin would die so she could continue to make brew and not worry about him.

But all that changed that day in that same home two years ago.  She gave her life to Christ and was transformed.  She now tries her hardest to care for the children that still live with her.  She washes their clothes, she cleans their home, she feeds them, and she tries to provide for them the best she knows how. She spends time telling others how God has changed her life and she's truly a light in Mururui to those in darkness.  We met so many people and when we asked them how they started going to church, their answer was simple...Virginia.  While her life is still not simple, and while she still struggles, baby Kevin is alive and healthy and happy. He's got one of the sweetest giggles and loves having his picture taken.  

(Kevin - alive, healthy, happy)

(Beatrice and Rhonda)

Beatrice is now 6 and when we got there, she was sick again.  Rhonda reached over to me and said, "This little girl had a fever when I was here two years ago and she has a fever now."  I could see the pain in her eyes.  She had a runny nose and a cough.  As we prayed over Beatrice in her older sister's home, it occurred to me that this child was sick and it became reality that even something as simple as a cough could be deadly.  My heart sank in my chest as I watched her and realized how hard it must be to not feel well in such circumstances.  Rhonda and some others took Beatrice to the clinic, and it turns out she has tuberculosis.  She was able to get treatment at the clinic (while not easy, it's possible).  She'll have to continue with the treatments and take her medicine.  Several days later, she seemed to be doing so much better.  She was smiling and laughing and skipping rope.  I know that God has huge plans for Beatrice and Kevin.  Just look at those smiles.

Meet Monica

One of my absolute favorite things about this trip was visiting with some of the people in their homes, listening to their stories, hearing about their lives, their struggles, and their faith in God.  

Meet Monica.  Her home was the first one I was able to visit in Marurui slum.  It was tiny.  Held together with cardboard boxes and old wood pieces with a rusty tin roof.  We walked into the dark room with the little light there was creeping through the door.  Rhonda, Beth, Lauryn, and I sat with barely enough room for all of us to fit.  Huddled together, we listened to Monica's story.  She's a single mother raising six kids.  She reached into a plastic bag hanging on the side of the twin bed she was sitting on and pulled out a photo.  She handed it to us.  I looked at the picture of Monica with her beautiful children and she beamed with pure joy.  One of her sons is crippled and goes to school outside of the slum where he is lucky enough to have a sponsor who is able to pay for his schooling.  Her husband left her after her youngest child was born so she has been alone to raise the children.  She tells us that she is HIV positive.  She tells us that she is feeling good but has been very sick in the past.  We asked how she was able to care for her kids and she confidently stated that she was only able to do it through God and without his help she wouldn't be able to.  Despite her circumstances, she is not angry at God, but she relies on him to get her through.  

We asked Monica how we could pray for her.  She told us that she wanted us to pray for her children and that they would grow up knowing Jesus and that they would choose to love him.  As we sat in Monica's home praying for her health and that she would be able to provide for her children, I felt God's presence and it was so much bigger that that tiny room we were sitting in.

Beth, Monica, Lauryn, and I after our visit 

Pray for Monica, for her health, for her children.  

African Adventures - The Prologue

I'm not sure I'll ever be able to put into words everything I'm feeling right now.  I knew Africa was going to be big for me, but I don't think I realized the impact it was going to have on me.  The way it was going to make me feel. Something so foreign that I feel tugs at my heartstrings...it physically aches for these precious people I've met.

I want you to meet them too. I want to tell you their stories.  I want to make you love them. I want you to feel as deeply as I do, but unfortunately I don't think that's possible.  So I'll do my best to bring their stories justice.

Due to unreliable internet, I wasn't able to blog while we were over there.  So I journaled the old fashioned way - in my favorite leather bound journal.  I tried to write about the people I met, some of the things we experienced, the things we saw, faith so huge I might never understand, beauty, pain,  disease, amazing cups of coffee, friendship, and love.  Of course, some of those things are more exciting than others, but its all real and raw.

Our African adventures started months ago with fundraising, events, and meetings in preparation.  But finally, Friday morning, June 3rd it became real.  Our flight left Nashville late Friday morning with 12 of us on board heading to Atlanta.   We boarded our international flight to Amsterdam where we had a layover that was long enough to let us enjoy the crisp early morning air and a brief walk around the beautiful city (and a quick visit to Anne Frank's house).  Then, back to the airport to catch our flight to Nairobi.  We landed in Nairobi and headed to the guest house after over 30 hours of travel.  As we sat in the van and stared out the windows and got our first taste of Nairobi, I had no idea how I would feel at the end of those two weeks and how I would leave a huge piece of my heart there.

4 Days!

I can’t believe that in 4 days I will be boarding a plane and heading to Kenya! It’s so hard to believe that the time to go is finally here. I was one of the last people to join the team when I was asked to go in October. So for the last eight months it has just been an event so far in the future, it barely seemed real. Yesterday, we had our very last meeting state side. We each brought an extra luggage with us and packed it full of supplies to leave over there. Socks, blankets, books, clothes, toys, medicine, band-aids, Neosporin, paint, coloring books, jump ropes, crayons, and a million other items that were donated over the last couple months.

I can’t wait to see what God has in store for us during those two weeks we’re in Nairobi.

Let me ask you this…please keep our team in your prayers. Pray for wisdom, safety, open hearts, and opportunities. And if you like to pray specifically for each of us, we would love that – Rhonda, John, Lauryn, Jessica, Beth, Joby, Alyssa, Anya, Cooper, Lisa, Dave, Justin, Elijah, and of course, me!

Unfinished

Right now, the only word I can think of to describe what I'm feeling is "unfinished."

From the pile of dirty laundry separated into respective piles in my un-vaccuumed bedroom floor, to the 10 item checklist with only two crossed off, to the half read book sitting on the coffee table, to the 12 half-written blog posts that haven't been published.  It's easy to look around and see all of the unfinished things that need to be done...completed...wrapped up with a pretty bow.  

It's very uncharacteristic that I would leave so many things incomplete (except for the dirty laundry part).  I like to finish things.  I love having the sense of accomplishment and being able to check one more thing off my Post-It note.  It makes me feel like I'm in control.  

And I guess that's my point.  Right now, I'm totally NOT in control.  

With 25 days left until I get on a plane and head to Africa (and with the impending doom of my 30th birthday lurking around the corner), it's more glaringly obvious than it's been in a very long time that I am indeed, unfinished.  My life is unfinished.  There are so many things I have left to do.  Things to complete.  Things to finish. 

Where to even begin is completely overwhelming.  Tonight, I'll just worry about publishing some of those half written blog posts.  

Let's Just Say "See You Later"

In the last several weeks, I've said goodbye to many co-workers.  Some, I wasn't close with, but there were a very special handful that were my trusty confidants, my break from a busy day, my workout partners, my lunch buddies.  They were my friends.

I don't like goodbyes.  I know I will probably see all of them again (at least I better!), but for some, it will be easier to keep in touch.  While I am extremely happy for their new beginnings, it's bittersweet because I will miss them all terribly!

Katherine, Me, and Laura on Halloween

Me and Sutton at his going away party