After discovering that our hotel's continental breakfast included a waffle iron I didn't think anything could bring me down from that high. I was more than wrong; today was an intense roller coaster of a day that left me more joyous and inspired than a make your own waffle station ever could.
After introducing Monalisa to the joys of a waffle station and enjoying one myself; the three of us hurried out to the car and headed to Tirzah Presbyterian Church whose minister, Rev. Jill Duffield had kindly invited us to participate in both Sunday School and the Worship service.
On the way there we got lost. This is a recurring theme throughout not only this trip -- but my life. Luckily I budgeted extra time for just such a catastrophe.
We arrived at church just in time for Sunday School. We were all unsure as to how to proceed. This was our very first stop and no matter how much you talk about it and plan for it -- the first stop always presents some jitters. As we sat at the table and Monalisa began to speak all eyes were on her. She told a story -- no her story -- of growing up in South Africa, of experiencing things that we like to believe only happened in days past, bringing her three children into the world, striving to make something of her life and just simply trying to make the world a better place for everyone. She spoke of the violence she faced inside her home, she spoke of abuse from the very people who were supposed to protect her, and she spoke of taking tragedy and using it as her inspiration to join TAC. There wasn't a dry eye in the entire room.