There are so many things I want to write about. So much going on lately, A lot of eye-opening realizations, life shifts, emotions rising and falling like waves, but the thing I kept coming back to today was a memory I wanted to share with you.
About 20 years ago (ouch—that one stung my ego a bit, LOL), I went on a mission trip with my church at the time. We went to Jamaica to help at an orphanage, and it was such a beautiful, grounding experience. One of those trips that stays with you forever. It reminded me how much we take for granted.
There were two special kids, from that trip, who’ve stayed in my heart ever since.
One was a beautiful baby girl—just under a year old. She was sick to her stomach, fragile, but my goodness… she was strong. A little trooper. Always smiling, even through the discomfort. She needed extra care that the staff tried to give, but there simply weren’t enough hands or resources. So while we were there, I did my best to help. I remember holding her, praying over her, trying to pour as much love as I could into the short time we had together. Leaving her behind was so heartbreaking, it planted something in me. She’s part of the reason I still think about adoption. I still have her picture. I still think about her. I wish I had more information to have been able to follow her journey.
The other was a little boy—with the kindest smile and the biggest heart. Such a cutie pie. He was kindergarten age, maybe. So sweet.
We had brought school supplies for the children, and we had to walk over a mile to reach the school—we all walked together under the summer hear up a hill to a small building, no air conditioning, partial walls, very few desks and chairs, and one teacher doing her best to teach a full room of eager kids.
We all sat together on the floor, facing an old, beat-up blackboard. That’s when I saw the boy sit down and accidentally break his only pencil.
My heart dropped. I remember thinking, “Oh no. That was his only one”. I was already figuring out how to sneak him another, but before I could move, he looked up at me with wide eyes, holding a piece of pencil in each hand, he looked back at each piece and loudly and enthusiatically said: “Now I have two pencils.” With a smile from ear to ear.
That moment melted me. Always will.
His joy. His perspective. His ability to see something good in what looked broken. We were both looking at this broken pencil, and the perspectives were SO different. I truly preferred his.
That little boy changed my life. I revisit this memory often, probably not as often as I should, but often.
Whenever I feel like I’m losing my mind with anxiety over worldly things, when things feel heavy or hard like i’m drowning, I try to bring it back to gratitude and his face comes to mind.
That smile. That wisdom. That light.
He taught me what true gratitude looks like.
So today, I just wanted to share this memory with you.
As I continue walking this journey of healing, growth, and self-discovery, this memory grounded me today once again.
Maybe it’ll ground you too.
Life is full of ups and downs, but like a heart monitor, that’s a sign we’re still living. Still feeling. Still here.
Maybe you—or someone else—sat on your metaphorical pencil.
It’s okay. It’s not the end.
You can still sharpen the pieces and create something new.
You might even realize…
you’ve got two pencils now. 💛
Sending love, hope, and a reminder to look for your glimmers.
Chin up, buttercup. You got this.
With love,
– K
Journey 2 Zendipity 