Adriana.

Her name is Adriana.
When I knew her two years ago she was quiet and shy. A girl who looked like she was 12 when she was really 15. She used to make funny faces at me and laugh at the way I said my words. She never really talked much because she was so shy. Everything about her was timid and innocent.
When I arrived at Alexandria this year one of the first girls to see me was Adriana. When she saw me (as with many of the other girls) she recognized that I was back again. My team two years ago was the last real ministry team that the girls in Alexandria have had other than teams dropping off school supplies and Christmas presents. So Adriana remembered me. Her face lit up when she saw me. I recognized her a little, but she has grown so much. She is taller and bigger and her hair is a little different. She was still quiet, but her heart seems much harder. She makes faces at me and still really enjoys laughing at me trying to speak Romanian, but her heart is hard. It has been hardened by life in the orphanage. It has been hardened by the hierarchy within the orphanage that I talked about in my post about Mimoza. She is a servant to the girls who are older than her. She doesn’t have a voice, she doesn’t have a say, but she has to obey orders or she will get beat up. She didn’t say very much to me, but she has a game where she will tap me on the shoulder or call my name then point at someone else or just look away. She always thinks that it is funny. She enjoys hugging me and getting close to me, but on her terms. Usually right before we get in the car to leave she will hug me really tight. She will look me in the eyes and say something to me that I usually can’t understand. Then I will kiss her on the forehead or cheek and tell her I love her and that she is my sister. She will hug me or hold my hand until the last second when I get in the van, then she will run to whichever window is closest to me and smile, wave, and tell me she loves me and she will see me tomorrow.

When we went to see them on our way back to Bucharest for the final time she came out of the apartment and wouldn’t really talk to me. She didn’t want to have to admit that I was leaving. I could tell that she wanted to get close, but the hardness of her heart wouldn’t let her. There was a moment that I snuck up behind her to give her a hug and she relaxed into my arms a little bit, but then she realized what she was doing and wiggled away. She cried as I got into the van

She wrote me a few notes and each one was more and more about how much she loves me and doesn’t want me to leave, but she understands that I have to. At the same time she says that even though she understands she still wants me to come back and see her. She told me not to forget about her, as if I ever could. She is so sweet. I just wish she would open up more.

A day in the life.

Last Sunday I experienced what I like to call a day in the life of a Romanian. Well not so much in the morning but later in the day. In the morning we got to spend some time to ourselves. We got to sleep in and do breakfast whenever we woke up. Then we had a morning “night light” since our night before had been a late night. We had a super relaxing day. We got to spend some time just hanging out and watching movies. When 4 p.m. came around though, that is when things got really cool and very Romanian. We went to visit a lady from down the road. We met her on a walk and Shannon took her picture and ever since then she loves to see us and spend time with us. She invited us over for an afternoon visit. We didn’t have long to stay there, but we experienced real Romanian hospitality. She showed us into a room that I think was a bedroom, they brought us all chairs to sit even though we were perfectly fine sitting on the ground or on the bed. They had prepared a cake and a special type of bread for our visit. The bread takes like half a day to make. They kept asking us if we wanted anything to drink, and finally they brought us in some pears from the pear tree. It is a fond memory of mine, sitting in that room with this old Romanian lady who just started telling us some of her life. She talked a little about life during communism and how hard her life has been since her husband died. She has lived in the same house forever which I thought was amazing. It is so interesting to see the life of a Romanian, and the difference between the life of a Romanian in the city and the life of a Romanian in the country. We were able to meet some of her family as well. Her daughters were there as well as her granddaughter. We were only able to stay for probably about 30 minutes or so and we had to leave to go to church. We took her granddaughter with us to church. We arrived at church and some of the boys we had been working with that week, as well as some of the girls we worked with previously in the summer showed up so they could see us. Romanian churches (especially the ones in the small towns) are so different from American churches, but I love it so much. There is much more singing, there is a time or two during the service where we stand to pray and people in the congregation can pray. The intensity of the prayer during those times, from those people is enough to challenge me in how I pray. Then if there are visitors, the visitors should have prepared some special music (we had three songs) as well as someone to share a testimony, or if it is a man to share some scripture or a word from God. Also the men and the women sit on opposite sides of the church. After our church service we hung out with the kids for a bit and went back to the Heart to Heart apartment in Rosiori while we were waiting for the best shaorma I have had the whole time I have been here. We spent some time just hanging out with each other, enjoying our little time to relax. Then we went home and went to sleep. It was a fabulous day. If you have questions, ask me about it.

Mimoza

I don’t know why but this year I always seem to become attached to and to attract the girls who are kind of on the bottom of the hierarchy of orphanage life; the girls who cannot talk or really take care of themselves. In this hierarchy, at least where I am right now, there is one girl who is the oldest. She has the most control. Just her presence or the mention of her name is enough to make the girls straighten up. Then there are the older girls who are under her. They have a lot of control over the younger ones. They can boss them around, send them on errands, and do their dirty work for them. It doesn’t matter if the younger girls are in the middle of something, they have to drop whatever they are doing and cater to the needs of the higher rung on the ladder. After the girls who are like the slaves are the little ones. These girls are not old enough to get bossed around for errands yet, but they are bossed around to do the things that the girls that are just above them don’t want to do. Those things could include eating their leftover food, throwing away their trash, carrying their possessions, etc. Then after the little ones are the girls with major special needs. Of course, there are times when the girls above them on the ladder are nice to them, but those moments are few and far between. These are the girls who cannot speak (or cannot speak well), they cannot stand up for themselves, they need others to watch over them all the time. Most of the time these girls seem to be just kind of pushed to the side and not focused on at all. When we do a program we focus mostly on the girls who will be able to understand what we are talking about and just hope the others will see our love. One of these girls on this bottom step of the hierarchy has really touched my heart.

Her name is Mimoza. I met Mimoza two years ago. She has some disease that has infected her organs in her belly making them expand to far beyond the normal size that her stomach should be. She always seems quite anxious and when she gets excited she rocks back and forth so far forward and so far back that sometimes it seems like she will hit her head on the ground. She can talk, but it sounds like she is saying it almost as if she were underwater. You can hear the noise, the pitch of her voice but you have to listen very hard to try and understand what she is saying. When I knew Mimoza two years ago I loved her, but almost because I felt so bad for her. Now when I see her and spend time with her trying to see beyond the things that bind her, I can see the story in her eyes. She doesn’t look into your eyes often, but when she does it is so deep. They tell a story that I wish I could hear. I was privileged to be able to spend 5 days in the presence of this princess. During our time at the school, she remembered me. She recognized me and I feel like God had a plan to open my ears to be able to hear her; to understand her words. I was able to have small conversations with her and during these conversations I knew that she was hearing me and I knew that she understood what I was telling her. I feel like she can pay attention and does pay attention more than people give her credit for. She loves it when people rub her back and play with her hair. During the four days at their school, the entire time she had these three clumps of white stuff in her hair. With this white stuff, no one really wanted to touch her hair. After the weekend in Bucharest we had two days of carnival fun where the girls came to the boy’s transition house and we had so much fun here. During this carnival we had some carnival games, lunch, a zip line, a slip-n-slide, and we washed the girls’ hair. We found out that the white stuff in her hair was gum and had been there for over a week. One of the girls on my team had some oil that could get it out. The whole time she was getting her hair washed she was so excited. Afterwards she brought me a comb and I helped her brush her hair. She loves it when the back of her hair is played with and she looked so cute. She had a smile plastered on her face for the rest of the day. I love this sweet girl so much. I don’t know if I will ever get to see her again here in Romania, but I know that the time I did spend with her was so special. During the slip-n-slide she couldn’t really grasp the concept of running and sliding on it so after most of the people cleared off she and I just jumped in the puddles that were leftover. It was a precious moment that is written on my heart and I can’t forget about it. I am so thankful for my time with Mimoza. She taught me so many things that I can’t even begin to describe them to you. I don’t know what this disease will do to her, but I know they are surprised she has lived this long. I don’t know if I will ever see her again, but the only thing I can do is put her back in God’s hands. He has her safe and sound, right where she should be.


she is so precious.

i saw her!

Today was the best day I have had during this whole trip and probably in the last two years. I saw Elena today. It was like we had never been apart. She has grown up so much; she is 16 years old instead of 14. She has had a baby. But inside she is still the same old Elena. Earlier the older girls told me they saw her in the Piazza during lunch and they told her that I was at the school, but that she had said she probably wasn't coming. So I didn't get my hopes up. I was hoping to see her, but I knew that there was only a slight chance that I actually would get to see her. We were starting to play our water games and all of a sudden Flori came over and grabbed my hand, running and yelling in Romanian. I wasn’t sure where she was taking me or what she wanted. Then I saw her. I screamed. This was the moment I have been waiting for. The moment when I saw my Elena. I gave her two years worth of hugs in one big hug. It was just her and I. We were surrounded by a crowd of girls. I almost started to cry but I knew that I couldn’t. I didn’t want the other girls to think that I didn’t want to be with them, because I did. But Elena was there. We walked over to where everyone was playing the games, I didn’t want to leave my team, but I wanted to be with Elena so much. So I played one game with my team. After the game was over (and I was soaked because I got lots of water dumped on me) I went to Elena and gave her a big hug. She just smiled and laughed. Then she said something to me very quietly, as if I would be disappointed with her, as if she was ashamed. She said it so quietly at first that I didn’t know what she said, and then she said it again. She told me herself that she had a baby. I was glad that she didn’t just assume that I already knew. Then I took her to where we always used to sit on the stage next to the school. I gave her a bracelet I made for her just in case we were to meet. When I opened my purse she saw a letter that I had written for her. I hadn’t gotten it translated yet so I was going to wait until a translator was around. But, she saw it and she wanted me to read it to her. So I was able to translate my own letter to her. It was really cool because we were able to talk as if we spoke the same language. I know that God has bound us together in our hearts because I am not able to understand when other girls talk to me, but when Elena talks to me I can understand. Again today just like two years ago, Georgiana said something to me and I had no idea what she said, but I looked at Elena and she was able to say it to me again and I could understand. I don’t know how it works, but I love it. It was nice to spend time with her and I am so glad, even though I would have liked to see her more, God heard my prayer and I was able to see her. I made sure she knew that I love her and that I missed her and that I still think of her as my sister. I love her so much and although I don’t know when I will see her again, but I know that God will be faithful for me to see her again.



The day that we left Alexandria, just as we were getting ready to leave Elena showed up with her precious little baby girl. I got to hold her and spend some time with her before I needed to leave to say goodbye to the other girls.

bucharest has a story, romania has a story.

Bucharest has a story, Romania has a story.

So the other day as we were driving through Bucharest I was noticing the many people on the streets just walking or riding the tram. I was careful to see the different block buildings and the people watching out the windows of them. I saw older men and women walking around in attire that comes from a different era, an era where the streets are dirt and not bustling with traffic of all variations. I saw young men and women in the latest fashions, dressed for weddings or just for a day out on the town. I thought of what life would have been like 20 years ago. Twenty years and seven months ago was when the revolution happened. The people had just been released from communism. Walking the streets would have seemed so freeing, yet so scary. I am sure some people were still afraid. It would have been hard and I know that it was a very dark time for this country. Bucharest has a story. A story that you can see by just watching out the window of a van. Just looking down the street where the People’s Palace is located you can sense the hurt of the country caused by a man who had no right to be in power over a country.

Through the past weeks we have been driving around the country from Bucharest to the Black Sea to Sinaia to Zimnicea. Driving around shows what this country was put through under communism and you can see why certain things are the way that they are. It is sad. Driving in the countryside and living in the countryside when I go to the boys transition house makes me feel like I am stepping back in time. Back to a time where electricity is rare, the work that people do is around their home and in their own fields, not with many machines but with their own two hands. It takes me back to a place in time where the best form of transportation for them is a horse or donkey with a tiny trailer pulling behind it. It is a place of early mornings, and evenings spent on a bench outside conversing with neighbors and just watching the country life. It is so simple, but so intriguing. Internet is rare there and the way of life is not about making it to their next meeting or driving here and there and everywhere. It is about simple. It is about learning to do the best with what you have been provided with. Sharing and loving and caring. It is a community. A willing community.

There are so many people here. They have a story. It burdens my heart to tell their story. Experiencing this country in so many different ways this trip has helped me to understand more of the culture, the language, and the history.

If the actual country of Romania could talk, I wonder what it would say…

Her name is Estera

She is silly, adorable, fun, kind, loving, lovable, and one of the girls who has touched my heart the very most.
She is a precious princess.
She is smart and hysterical.

The past four days I have been able to spend time with Estera. She was in my small group at camp and it was very cool to see how she responded to our material. From the moment she walked through the door she was making jokes, but she knew when to be serious. She was always a joy to be around and even though we did not have any serious and deep conversations with just us, she touched my heart in a way that I cannot even describe in words. As I sit here trying to describe this girl to you it brings tears to my eyes. My heart breaks for her and for what she had to go back to today. I saw a girl who came in as more of a tomboy, whose favorite thing to do is play soccer, and whose favorite color is blue put on a princess crown, get her hair and makeup done, get a manicure and pedicure, and walk down our makeshift catwalk in a shirt dress.

She made me smile multiple times every day.
And beneath her tough exterior is a girl who loved being pampered and loved and cherished and told how much she is worth.

She is worth so much. I wish you could meet her.
I love her so much.

Today as she was leaving, she was crying. She gave me a hug and told me that she loved me.
I embraced her and my tears fell. I told her I loved her too and told her I would miss her. She kissed me on the cheek and I kissed hers back.

Then they drove out of the driveway. I dont know when I will see her again. I hope it is soon. I love her so much.

Estera and I after our princess scavenger hunt.

Thoughts on the end of our first camp.

So today was amazing.

I wish every day could be like today, not for me, but for the girls.
We had a spa day, we pampered the twelve girls and made them feel like princesses. We did hair, makeup, nails, facials (including cucumbers), and pedicures. I did a foot scrub and foot massage for the girls. Even though some were ticklish, they all loved it.

We had a tea party, complete with sailboat sandwich 4ths, fruit salad, vegetables, and scones.

After our tea party, the girls put on their new clothes and had a fashion runway show for the team. They were so beautiful, and so precious. Then it was time for them to leave. I wish this was the part that didn't have to happen.

They were already packed up and it was like as soon as the fashion show was over, they were gone. All of those beautiful young women were gone. And I was left wondering these questions for the rest of the day... Did I say enough? Did I do enough? Did I love enough? Did I hold that hug just a little longer? Did I try to understand a little bit more? Was I patient enough? Was I strong enough? At the end of the day, did those girls know they were loved and beautiful and worth so much?

My answer is no, I didn't, I couldn't, I was not enough. But God was. When I was exhausted, God gave me the strength to push a little longer, stay up a little later, understand a little better, hold them a little longer, love them much more than I ever could myself.

Tonight my heart is breaking for these precious ones. My heart just hurts, aches for them. I love them with every fiber of my being... That is all I can do.

Sunt Fericit Isus Mi-e Liberat

Getting to know these girls has been amazing and I am so glad that I am privileged enough to get to do this. Sometimes I stop and wonder... how or why did God choose me for this. But then there is that one moment when you realize why you are there. That one moment when you know EXACTLY why God picked you and not someone else. Each day I have those moments. Sometimes it is just one moment and sometimes it is more. Today there were a few moments.

First let me tell you about one of the girls. Her name is Roxana. I met her in Alexandria two years ago, and I called her Roxi. Now she doesn't like to be called Roxi. There is something about her that I just can't put my finger on. She is very quiet, VERY quiet. I feel like she would have a lot to say, if she were to trust you enough to open up. When you look in her eyes you can tell she has a history, she has lived a life that I can't even imagine. But she stays silent. She has one of the longest, hardest, deepest stares of anyone I have ever met. When she stares into your eyes it is like she is reading your soul. She will rarely smile about something with it being a real smile that goes all the way through her, but there are those special occasions when that does happen.

So today, at one point I was sitting on one of the couches kind of just by myself, waiting for the girls to get done journaling. I was just kind of looking around and I saw Roxana sitting on the stairs. There was plenty of room on the couches, but she was on the stairs.
So I smiled at her.
My smile was met with a blank stare.
Then I winked with each eye a few times.
My winks were met with a half smile.
I made some silly faces at her and continued to smile.
Then she cracked.
I got her to laugh at me, not for long... but long enough.

Later during small groups, our translator was talking to one of the other girls, answering a question she had. Roxana hasn't said more than two words ever in small groups. I was sitting across the table from her, and since she was not interested in the conversation and I couldn't understand, I just held my gaze in her general direction. Her eyes would meet mine every so often and she would smile.

At the end of the day, we sang worship songs before it was time for us to leave. It was really cool because there were people worshiping in both Romanian and English, it didn't matter if you could or couldnt sing; it didnt matter if you were on key or not; it didnt matter if it was half English and half Romanian. It was a mixture of the languages that made it a beautiful sound.

At these moments today, I felt so blessed to be here. I felt so blessed to be able to share in this experience. I can't believe I am here. I can't believe God picked me to do this ministry, but I am so thankful that he did. I wish I wasn't going home in August.

I have many more of these moments.
I just wish I knew more Romanian so that I could respond. I can generally understand what the girls are saying... sometimes... but figuring out how to respond is the hard part.

Tabara de Fetele

Oh Camp.

First of all, let me say...I love girly camp.
When I last wrote a blog, I was not really sure what to expect at camp, since it is not camp like how Americans think of camp. At this camp we have twelve girls and seven staff staying the house and nine staff that commute each day to the house. We sit on the couches to do our discussions and we use a small backyard bonfire pit on the ground as our campfire. We are split into four teams and each team helps out with doing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and doing chores around the house.
If you have never done dishes three times a day for 28 people, with a language barrier you should try it sometime. We have done so many cool things with these girls. We have talked to them about things that can be hard to talk about, but it has been good. Slowly they have been opening up, I just wish we had more time with them. Yesterday we had a pool party at the team house. Then after dinner we had a scavenger hunt in Bucharest. The scavenger hunt was looking for three princesses in the rain all at different landmarks. I was with Corny (one of the translators on H2H staff) in the woods by the historic houses and stuff. Then we had a campfire with smores. yum yum. Today we went to Sinaia. The girls went on a tour and we had lunch at a park. When we got back to the house we spent some time doing crafts before group discussion. During group discussion it was awesome, one of the girls shared about her life story. My heart was crying out for her. Then I got to share a little of what was on my heart. The topic I picked didn't have very much extra information in the discussion packets we got, which was good because that meant I didn't really need to follow something that was already set. So I shared some of my testimony and what was on my heart. During small group time we had a good conversation and I feel like we were able to talk about truth with them, and what is (or isn't) true about different religions. Camp has been so fun though, I am going to be so sad to see them go tomorrow. But I am also excited for the girls who will be coming on Tuesday. A new group of girls to share the love of Jesus with.