When I was in Armenia this year, I traveled with the residents and staff to the town of Kapan, which is where some of our first group of residents were living before we opened. We went to remember, to behold our beginnings in our hands, and to celebrate what has come to pass. And there was so much to celebrate that we were not even on the lookout for anything else.
But while we were there, we went to the orphanage where some of our residents had lived. We thought it would be a simple visit, but while we were there, something happened.
We gathered around to share chocolates, skits and songs with the orphans who live there. We learned that they were destined for the institutions and had outgrown the orphanage. We saw the need in their eyes, which has less to do with four walls and a roof over one’s head and more to do with love and peace and a forever home.
And it happened.
One of our staff members walked up to me and said, “We have to open another home. Do you see these people? We have so much to give them.”
We have so much to give them, yes, and we have just as much to receive. How profound it was to be invited by one of our staff into the next season of this work, to be the one who supports rather than initiates a second home. This is what I have longed for—to see this movement take root in Armenian soil so that it lasts and lives beyond its humble beginnings.
We have been planning and saving for the opening of our second home for some time, and when we saw these people face-to-face, we passed the point of no return. You don’t plan for love. You don't even plan for the possibility of love. It just happens. And then Love takes you by its hand and urges your forward surely and quickly.Attachments:
(If you would like to read more, our annual report is attached.)