Why I Hold Back

There was something about William. The way he leaned in when he spoke. The expressiveness of his hands and the kindness in his eyes. I liked him in an instant and was so moved by his story. William has 19 brothers and sisters and lived as a refugee in Uganda before returning to his family's homeland in Rwanda after the genocide. We talked for a long time on the sofa that day. Just the two of us. We talked about his love for his three daughters and his wife. The importance of education and the sacrifices he makes to offer this gift to his family. We talked about gratitude.

"Bite... (hi, how are you?) William!" I said nearly shouting into my headset on Skype the other day. "It's Stephania!"

It was the first time I sat down to call a few of my friends in Rwanda since my visit weeks ago. It's not that I haven't wanted to call, but in a strange way... I've felt a need to hold back. To hold myself in a space apart from their love to a degree. To keep myself from truly missing them.

"Stephania! Nibijiza (good)... How are you? I miss you!"

It melted me... this little conversation that lasted less than ten minutes... comprised of basic English phrases mixed with a handful of Kinyarwanda words that ended in "turikumwe" (we are together). Such sweetness. Pure love. And as I ended the call I couldn't help but wonder why I hold back.

Comments

[liz elayne]

thank you for your beautiful honesty.
so much to be learned here.

blessings...

[Dean]

I wondered, too, when I heard you and Jen at Villa Sernena the other night. Clearly, the love was there, all around. Your wonderful smile shows when you let go. Thanks for all you've done and will do.

[Jeanene]

So beautiful...thank you for sharing...