I live down by the big tree. If you’re taking the tro-tro from Teiman to Abokobi, tell the mate you’ll alight under the big tree. They’ll know the one. If you go too far, you’ll run into the mountains where the sun makes its last appeal every day, hiding its blaze behind the hills, allowing the upside-down moon to have the final say. If you then find yourself lost in the mango trees, or wandering through fields of cassava, just look for the poultry farm made of bamboo. Take shade under the roof, and ask the owner to point you in the direction of Amaria. He’ll show you the way.

The view on my way home every day. 
Teiman, Ghana 2014

Follow the dirt path on the left until you see the towering water tank. Go through the gate and look for the salmon colored house with all of the shoes outside, you’ll know the one. If you need to, ask our neighbors where the “obruni” live and they’ll lead you to our door. 

Playing with our next-door neighbors.
Teiman, Ghana 2014

Our home is the one filled with so much joy sometimes I think the walls will come down. It’s open to all who enter. Inside you’ll find tiny bare feet that love to dance. You’ll hear laughter as pure as a mountain stream, bubbling up from a place of love. Inside you’ll hear the soft, contented breath of boys passed out on the floor, curled up in a tangle of sleeping bags and bedsheets. Go into another room and you’ll hear the louder, more sonorous snore of the next door neighbor filtering through the open windows.

Elekam’s smile is priceless, and seeing it every afternoon is just one of the highlights of my day. 
Teiman, Ghana 2014

The Macarena is their favorite song to dance to!
Teiman, Ghana 2014

In the morning, the wind will carry the crow of the rooster into your dreams and the gentle sound of women sweeping the hard earth will awaken your sleep. Outside, the stalks of corn and banana leaves will rustle a soft hello, and the sun’s reappearance will signal the beginning of a new day.

Here we are a family. We are a family of many nations, languages, and personalities. We are ever changing, ever growing, yet rooted in compassion for each other and a common goal: to love our neighbors. We are called by many names: Pastor, teacher, auntie, sister, and sometimes mommy.

Carrying the boys on our back “Ghana style”

Tiny hands and trusting eyes rely on us to play, to feed, and to scold. We have soothed shrieks of pain and held silent fears tightly in our arms. We’ve dressed wounds, graded papers, and danced our hearts out.

When the lights go out during another blackout, you’ll see our faces in the candlelight, sharing our dreams, our worries, our futures. We’ll talk about where we’ve been and where we’re going, but mostly we’ll tell of how we love being exactly where we are.

Standing in awe of the light from our humble Christmas tree.
Teiman, Ghana 2014

If you come inside you might notice the mess. The lack of furniture, the disarray of half-unpacked backpacks carrying all we own spread in every corner. You’ll see our earth stained feet and the dirty footprints covering the cool tile. You’ll see the stack of dishes in the kitchen and the mattresses on the floor.  

But you’re welcome to sit down and share a meal with us, there is always plenty to go around. We might be having pancakes or rice and beans again, or maybe Lena will make her special curry sauce. For dessert we’ll fry some plantains and heat up some water for tea.   

We’ll ask you where you’ve been and where you’re going, and invite you to stay awhile. Make this place your home. Be a part of our family. Come and live with us by the big tree, down the dirt road. Add your life to ours. Look for the pile of shoes outside the door to know you’re home.
Take off your shoes, and come inside.
Teiman, Ghana 2014