Kosova

Kerkoni pra mi si pari Mbreterin’ Edhe drijtesine e Perendise,
E te gjitha kito do t-ju jepen si shtese, Haleluja.
Kerkoni dhe do t-ju jepet, Shikoni dhe do te gjeni
Trokit dhe dera do te hapet. Halelu, Haleluja.


It has been an oddity and a privilege to be a part of this trip. I am pleasantly surprised by the way these students are stepping up to the plate and doing what is necessary. Certainly there are trip-ups and moments when you have to laugh at the choice of fill-in options…
Little bunny foo-foo….

We spent several days traveling.
Liza flew with us while the other students flew with Frank. The three of us took the train into Vienna and walked around the city enjoying the European sunshine. She was so trusting – following us whether we had the time or not. Easy. Low maintenance. One of those rare gems that I would take anywhere in the world.

We met the rest of the group at the airport for the continuation of the journey, and then we oriented with the workers here. I feel like we are in the way – that the workers here do not know what to do with us. Yet the kids are continuing to do whatever is asked without complaining. They are glad to be here, glad to serve, glad to do whatever it takes to be with these Albanian children.

There is only one student that seems full of herself and she is not the one I expected. She is also not bringing others with her.

Yesterday we had three classes of English at several different age groups levels. There were minor frustrations, just in the fact that we wish we could communicate with the children. There is so much we think that is hindered by a lack of verbal ability. Instead, every other thing is significant. No words. Actions. Smiles. Hugs. Pictures. Encouraging nods. Merlinda is an avid photographer at age twelve. Helen handed her a camera and she transformed before our eyes. This beautiful artisan. It was the freedom to move in the way God made her – to be the person she was created to be. Her life is changed… without our doing anything. We just provided the tool. This girl from the bombed out streets of Pristine becomes a photojournalist… a famous documentarian.

In another part of the room, Atlantida tells her stories. She weaves magical tales, spun with passion and joy. Matt listens enrapt, hanging on every word coming out of her nine-year-old mouth. She speaks Albanian. He understands only English. You would never know. This is love – a bridge between two worlds that are seemingly unmingleable. Connection in a single moment. Two souls; a heart for this world that will continue to echo it’s beat through the rest of the steps his feet take. Matt doesn’t know it yet…. That this little girl’s smile is going to change the rest of his life.