"Are You Lucky Here?"

It’s just past four and the outline of Table Mountain can be seen just outside the sunny window. Elsa and I are standing next to each other at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil for the ritual afternoon tea. She asks about my parents and if I miss them, inquires about if I’ll be around for Christmas. The Afrikaans/English/charades conversation continues in its own funny, heartfelt way with laughter filling in the silences. Pausing, Elsa looks at me with all sincerity and asks, “Are you lucky here?” I can tell she means “are you happy here?” but the language barrier brings a new side to the question.

Through the open door to my bedroom I can see the note one of the third graders wrote for me this afternoon sitting on the nightstand. I’d listened to her read and helped her understand some of the words, all the while encouraging her to keep up the incredible work. A little later she slipped a note to me with a shy grin. Written in what I could tell was her neatest handwriting it said:


“You only liveing once
Dear Jen thanks for help my teacher I no you come from America or South Amrica.
Rene Williams
I love you very much like a sweet and a lollypop.”

Commence acute attack of the warm fuzzies.


It’s been a month now in Cape Town with ups and downs, too many cups of tea (or maybe not enough), meeting more people than names I can remember, being adopted by my host family, Afrikaans lessons while playing cards with Elsa, and volunteering at both the church and local underprivileged elementary school. But the most important things to happen so far were the small moments connecting with people whose culture and language are a world away from my own. Accepting love isn’t always easy for me but here I feel completely surrounded by it. Every step of the way God has shown that He’s taking care of me, even miles and miles and miles away from home.

Am I lucky here? Lucky, happy, loved, full of hope, and blessed to serve.

I smile to Elsa with all my heart, “Yes, more that I can say.”