Faces

There are stories from Ethiopia that I can't tell.  I wish I could, and maybe if we were all sitting at a long dinner table, I would.  But there are some stories best not posted on the world wide web.  Some stories just deserve a dinner table, or a fireplace, perhaps a round of good drinks.  This morning, I'll refrain from story telling.  Instead, I'll let you piece together your own.  The warrior pastorlist with the kalishnikov; the orphan's mirindi smile; the street kid in the tire swing.  All people of different circumstance.  All people filled with joy. 

They are good people

 I am glad to be home.  But I will miss their faces.