Body and Spirit

Your daughter’s face is a small riot,
her hands are a civil war,
a refugee camp behind each ear,
a body littered with ugly things.

But God,
doesn’t she wear
the world well?

-Warsan Shire, “Ugly”
from teaching my mother how to give birth


I returned to Zambezi a slightly different person than who I was when I left last June. Not only had this place shaped me in ways that would continue to unfold after I’d left, but also I had seen and experienced new things during my time away that challenged my understanding of who I am. This was a tough year, the toughest of each of my 21 so far. I’ve heard they keep getting tougher. I came to Zambezi with a heart weary from working to carve out a place for myself in this world. I carried with me the burden of never feeling like enough in my schoolwork, my jobs, and my relationships. I touched down in Zambezi with skin itching with dislike for myself, with a desire to escape my body and the year I had shown it.

There are no mirrors in the convent, so I thought it would be easy to distance myself from what I look like in favor of who I believe myself to be. But since arriving in Zambezi, I’ve heard multiple people who remember me from last year exclaim, “Kate! You are getting big!” Although I know that this is a compliment in Zambezi, that didn’t keep it from stinging a bit. I come from a culture that tells me to think about my body constantly—what goes into it, what it looks like to myself and others, what it can and cannot be squeezed into—but never to openly comment on someone else’s. These Zambians I have come to know and love were drawing attention to what I was trying desperately to forget. They noticed the weight I carried with me, the remnants of a year heaped with new burdens.

Mama Josephine has carried her share of weight, too. In a country with an average life expectancy of 57 years, she walks the sandy streets of Zambezi with 72 strapped to her back. She has given birth to nine children, she works for an organization focused on empowering women in community development, and she was the only one from her province invited to Kenneth Kaunda’s (the first Zambian president) inauguration party. Her work in all three areas—politics, motherhood, and community organizing—requires her to take up space and have voice.

Josephine taps her bare feet on the convent floor as she leads us in a clumsy American rendition of “twaya mwanta.” The song is one of my favorites. It invokes the holy spirit to come to the singers, to dwell in our bodies: tuna dyoumbe mou mujimba. Josephine’s mujimba weaves through the narrow aisles of the market as three Zag women follow her. She speaks individually to vendors (almost all of whom are women), encouraging them to attend the “women in leadership” class that our team is offering this year, lecturing them on the importance of voice and self-reliance. Josephine moves the spirit with her tough and weathered hands. She fills a once-lifeless classroom with nine eager students, who collectively have more children and more business experience than most people’s extended families. They chatter in Luvale passionately and forget to translate for the four American teachers, but we don’t mind. This space is for them. Their chitenge-clad bodies and their oochi-smooth voices swell to fill the needs of the world around them.

The women in leadership class in the midst of saying, "We are women! We are strong!" Courtesy of photographer and motivational speaker Molly Bosch. Important note: Sam said it, too. I think he said it the loudest.

The women in leadership class in the midst of saying, “We are women! We are strong!” Courtesy of photographer and motivational speaker Molly Bosch. Important note: Sam said it, too. I think he said it the loudest.

Josephine moves her hand between my thigh and hers when she tells stories. This one is about her daughter and the ways that she worries too much about how she looks. Josephine prefers to focus on what she can do: “I have got a body and I have got a lot more to do with it.” The way she says it is meaningful. I have a body. It is mine, but it is not me. Zambezi is one of the most beautiful places to have a body. Here, I can feed it with Zambian-American dishes made with love by our mamas and with biscuits and ginger beer bought in the market. I can clothe it with something that was crafted specifically for my shape, stitched with my measurements in mind. I can use it to share myself through tears of joy and connection while hearing the blog and its comments, through body language essential to conversing with a language barrier, through playing with a 9-month-old baby boy while his mother takes the computer class. Having a body in Zambezi is about moving it to the rhythm of this lovely little town, about filling it with the love that’s all around me.
When Mama Josephine hugged me tightly for the first time in a year and commented on my weight, what she meant was that I am growing into myself. I am joining her in the ranks of women who have faced this harsh world with tough skin and soft bellies, with bright eyes and strong backs for carrying whatever is required of us, with hearts overflowing with the beauty this life has to offer.

Now, as our lovely Father Dom says, “I am going to take my whole self to bed.”

Kisu Mwane,

Katie Polacheck
Class of 2017


– Mom, Dad, and Bear: Hope you’re enjoying some thunderstorms in that humid Wisconsin summer. As I’m writing this on the front stoop of the convent, I’m imagining being on the back deck with you, reading library books on a summer night. Can’t wait to see you soon! Love you all. Give hugs to Aug the Dog.

– Zack, I picked the Warsan Shire poem for you. Love and miss you much. Happy 21st! Enjoy a drink and a beet salad at Geno’s for me. I’ll be here eating cabbage.

– 2015 Zam Fam, I have surprising news. Nobody got sick in Dipalata! We all enjoyed nshima, bananas, and oochi in relative gastrointestinal peace. We did get a goat, though. His name is St. Ignatius (GOat Forth and Set the World on Fire). I miss you all and think of you daily. I can feel your presence in this funny yellow home we share with generations of Zags. You are all so very central to my Zambezi experience; thank you for making this the journey it has been. Zambezi misses you just as much as I do.

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32 Responses to Body and Spirit

  1. Peter Sherman says:

    KP. You’re, like, really cool. I’ve been anxiously waiting to read your blog post, to see how this second Zambezi experience has been landing on you. The Zambezi community is so fortunate to have you returning there. Your strength, honesty, humility, and willingness to wrestle with the tensions that arise there allows for you to be such a great leader, mentor, and friend to the whole Zag team and the Zambezi community members. I was thinking the other day about a time last summer when you were so frustrated about one of your classes in which you were discussing women in leadership, and none of the women stood up for themselves and were just accepting the men saying that they were not the leaders of the household. BUT LOOK AT YOU NOW. Look at all of those strong Zambian women standing up for themselves and making an effort to strengthen there voices by taking the Leadership class! You are truly making a difference, KP. You ALL are. Thank you for giving such an honest, profound reflection about the burdens we carry physically and emotionally, and thank you for reminding me that these are only manifestations of the journey we are taking to becoming ourselves. This blog rocked my socks. You rock my socks. Stay awesome. Miss you.

    <3 petepete

  2. Kelsey Glenn says:

    Beautiful reflection, Katie. I so admire your ability to write beautifully and eloquently, bringing those of us who never had the pleasure of experiencing Zambia, to a place where we can almost imagine the simple joys and despairs. A beautiful place, where your worth and beauty is no longer based upon society’s standards, and rather you are seen as the beautiful, unique being that God so carefully and intentionally created. You’re more than enough Katie, and far wiser than your years.

    Thinking about and praying for you all. We can’t wait for you to return home and hear how your hearts and minds were transformed by this experience!

    Matt – Carlee misses you which makes me miss you too. Please return for ice cream and house hunting adventures with us!
    Handy – I was looking through pictures of NY the other day, reminiscing about the beautiful moments we had with those kiddos. I’m sure the little ones in Zambia are just as enamored by your sweet soul as those in New York were.
    Sam – As we grieve the loss of one of our own Rebs, it reminds me of the impact many have made on my life, whether that be small or large. I just wanted to say thank you for always being a smiling face with open arms, radiating God’s love for all. Cherish the time you have in Zambia, but know that you not only have a Zag fam anxiously awaiting your arrival, but also a Reb family.
    Davis – Holy smokes, wow. Met with my YL leader today from home and was chatting about GU YL and it sure made me miss you! You’re pretty good at scooping ice cream, even though I didn’t want to admit it on milkshake night.

  3. Venezia says:

    katie , I’m engulfing you in a huge hug right now. Just close your eyes for a second and pretend that I’m hugging you because I just want to right now after reading this. You have a beautiful soul and a year later you have opened it up to us once again with your great insight and honesty. I loved this so much. You are doing so many things with love and these women are lucky to have you as a leader. In a world that often faces discrimination and hurt, you have been able to bring so many individuals peace and personal worth. Never stop believing in your ability to love- both the world and the people that touch your heart , but also yourself. Forever grateful I sat next to you on the bus.

    Love always – Venezia

  4. Hannah Van Dinter says:

    Katie, my precious friend, I can hardly write to you now because I can’t see my computer screen through the tears pooled in my eyes. As you know, tears don’t come often for me, but MAN, they are flowing. This was unbelievably profound. You speak to such important parts of being a woman and being a human being. This piece began with a vulnerability that I have not yet learned how to express, and ended with such joy and peace surrounding your story, the story of women, and in some measure, the story of us all. You have a powerful mind, an always growing heart, and a beautiful body. I will be dwelling on this writing for a long time and will need to talk to you more about this when you return home. I am so proud of who you are. LOVE YOU, Hannah.

  5. Beth Polacheck says:

    Thank you Katie! You are wonderful (the best)! I too have tears flowing. Tears of love, pride and joy. We miss you. No thunderstorms to report, maybe we’ll get one at the cottage over the bay. I am so proud….

  6. Lindsey Hand says:

    Aw Katie…thank you for this. I already fan girled you in comments once this week but why not do it again? I’m so impressed by the way you process life and turn even he harsh and painful parts of life into something beautiful. Once again, sharing yourself vulnerably with us makes this even more powerful. Love you and so, so proud of who you are. I’m driving now and my book is packed I read a quote in a Bessie Head book I picked up last year in Zambia, and it is definitely about you. You’re a revolutionary in the mundane by loving who you are and by loving others as who they are. (The quote was much prettier than that).

    Also mama Josephine?! What a lady, I love her! That women in leadership class might be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard about. Yeah, it definitely is. Those beautiful women (and sam) in the picture melted my heart completely. Love you all! Sending hugs and love! So proud! You’re doing great work!

    Love always,

  7. Caroline Till says:

    Katie, this was a beautiful post to read! As always, your words are so powerful and truthful. It’s clear that you are continuing to grow and learn your second time around in Zambia and I have no doubt that you are cherishing every moment of this incredible journey. I finished Railtown Almanac a few days ago, thank you for sharing your story with me. I am forever grateful to have you as a kind and courageous role model at Gonzaga and I’m sure this group is thinking the same about having you as their TA. I’m so excited to listen to all your stories! Please give Elly and Moira a big hug from me!

    Lots of love,

  8. Julianne Taylor says:

    Katie, I love you so much. I’ve only known you for a year but in that year you have become such an amazing role model for me. I strive to emulate you in whatever I do. I too anxiously checked the blog everyday to see when you had posted an entry. Hearing all the amazing things you are doing has inspired me to do something meaningful with my life back home. I share your struggle with not feeling comfortable in my own skin, but reading this post has given me a newfound confidence that I will take with me in whatever I do. Thank you for everything that you have done for me, and have an amazing rest of your stay.

    Sending you all my love,


  9. Carlee Quiles says:

    You have always been one of my favorite writers to read no matter the topic. You are your most honest and vulnerable on paper (even if it is digital). Thank you for being the friend you are. The one who will tell you honestly that things aren’t great because that is apart of life. But finding the joy to make a long day worthwhile. I am excited for you to get back to the spo to share stories and bike rides. Love you, wow.

  10. Zack Rosse says:


    I have missed your writing so much. I’ve been waiting to read this post since the day you left. I’ve been waiting to cry into my breakfast. I’ve been waiting to hear you again.
    Your writing is so important to me. Everyday I am still trying to learn you, and I learn the most from your writing (especially these posts).
    A little part of me wanted to read this post and hear you talk about how loving and easy Zambezi is. It would have made me happy and let me sleep better, but that’s selfish. More than that I wanted to know your struggle. It reminds me how amazing you are, and how luck I am.
    I’ve been procrastinating taking my lunch break (that’s when I write my comments) because I can’t write like you. I feel absurdly self conscious knowing that your family and friends can read this, and still worse, that Jeff is reading this aloud.
    Either way, I miss you. Never stop learning. Your stronger than you realize. So many people love you. Remember to treat yourself right.
    Your little purple car will be waiting for you in Spokane, and my old truck will be here too, still running I promise. I love you Katie.


  11. Taylor Ridenour says:

    Kate, I love you tons. Just want to hug you right now and always. You matter a whole heck of a lot. I hope the name mama Katie has been one that you are called, while I have yet to meet these women you so beautifully write about, I have been incredibly blessed to have a woman as beautiful, strong, and loving as you in my life. The impact you have on this world, on the lives of those you touch, on my world is not something that can ever be captured in words-ah how ironic that feels for two people who value them so much. But I keep thinking about one of our favorite lines and how incredibly true it is for you and how much I see you living into it more everyday-you were made for hard and holy things.

    Friend, I have anxiously been awaiting your blog-I’m so thankful to hear that you have found a place to land after such a heavy year, keep allowing yourself to be filled with the love that exists for you-there, here, and always.
    “The world will give you that once in awhile, a brief timeout; the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.” ―The Secret Life of Bees.

    I am so proud of you and in awe of the ways you are able to share yourself through words-even though it is scary, hard, and never sits quite well with you. It takes courage-(Brene brown says this about courage, “the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart”)-thanks for courageously sharing and through that, allowing so many others to share their whole hearts t00. Blessings upon blessings come from you. Praying that you are allowing the resonance and praise from those who have read this and shared, fully sink into you. May you know how enough you are and how incredibly loved you are.

    love love love you tons,

    • Taylor Ridenour says:

      ps while it’s not Wisconsin-we have been enjoying(or at least I have) so much rain and a few thunderstorms recently in Spokane! The one a couple nights ago was particularly full and beautiful.

      sending my love to you all and big squeezes!

  12. Megan O'Malley says:

    My mutually messy goth twin,

    Remember how after your talk on the freshman retreat we led together, everyone was so moved by the beauty of your words and what honest truth they held? Remember how I was the weird leader in the back who could not control her sobby-ness in any way? But here’s the thing, I don’t regret those tears (or the ones swimming around in my eyes right now) one bit because they are a testament to the way you are able to write with aching precision about everything in you. Thank you for being a friend who is strong enough to share what’s actually happening, in your writing and in your friendships. You vulnerability reminds us of our agency to do the same. You are so incredibly beautiful, Katie.

    I could write so many words. But here’s the thing–you are meant to be right where you are right now. You must know this, because even I can feel it. The way you love and are loved by the beautiful women of Zambia, how your eyes lit up when Mama K called that night during Midterms, the way you have chosen to stay and listen to this culture instead of choosing to just love parts of it blindly; it’s the clearest and most brilliant example of a vocation I’ve seen in another.

    I’m sure you have provided so much for your fellow students: tea, and good reflection music, and a listening ear. I also hope that you have done the equivalent of chasing your residents around with a face drawn on your belly button. It’s just as important. I can not wait to sit in our house this summer and listen to all of the stories (add to the list of lock-in ideas?).

    When you get to Livingstone, tackle Joel or something swinger-like for me. I miss him too and Chimfunshi doesn’t update as frequently as you all do.

    I’m sorry that was long, but I just love you and everyone else so much. I’ll keep praying for you all!


  13. Beth Polacheck says:

    Katie, I have had a little more time to reflect on your post. I don’t want the brevity of my post to signal anything negative…I am just so filled with awe and pride! I love that your loved ones and friends see the same in you! You are so beautiful! Inside and out! Know that your sister is going to get an extra strong hug tonight, because I can’t hug you. Now I can’t even write properly because the tears are messing with the ability to see the screen. I am envious of your gift with words…you use them so well. Love you baby! So proud of you (and all of your fellow Zags). Zack, what you wrote was beautiful! Be proud!
    The incredibly proud mama of mama Katie

  14. Riley Ramage says:


    Thanks for making me cry. Immensely proud of you in this moment and always. What a gift that you were able to put into words the feeling that so many of us carry and the unending strength we are able to witness in women like Mama Josephine. I’ll never forget those bare feet slapping the concrete floor, trying to keep our unpracticed voices somewhat on beat. How I wish I could hear all of you belting out twaya manta along with her. I guess I’ll just have to settle for the voice memo you sent me for now.
    Your vulnerability and wisdom in this post are inspiring and I want to thank you for sharing this piece of yourself with all of us in such a brave way, just as Taylor has said. How lucky we all are to have you as a mentor, friend, TA, or whatever it may be. You make the lives of those around you better, I hope you never forget that. You are all in my thoughts and in my prayers! I cannot wait to hear more about the women in leadership class. Love you lots. Thank you thank you thank you.

    Kisu Mwane,

    Riley Ramage

  15. Your Aunt Faffy says:

    Dear Katie,
    What a heart felt beautiful post. It brought tears to my eyes as well. Your thoughts are so direct from your heart, wish I could share a big hug with you. Love you and look forward to visiting over the Fourth of July. Stay safe. Xxxooo

  16. Morgan Green says:


    I read this first when I woke up this morning, then again 15min later as I ate breakfast, and I think I’m up to 7 times now. I will probably read it more. Now the comments are making me just as teary eyed as your post. I agree with what so many have already said. Your writing is my favorite (but really) and your words hit me so hard that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them all day. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your vulnerability and willingness to share from the depths of your heart. I took having you as a freshman year neighbor for granted, but I am SO grateful for the opportunity to live with you again. At this point I’m probably on the outside of the hug mob of all the hugs that have already been sent, squeezing everyone’s warm arms more tightly around you. Love you bunches.

    Elly, there have been so many times that I wished I could have picked up my landline phone and dialed ext. 5112. Love you and miss you lots.

    Thank you to all of you for your posts. They keep me going through the long work days and keep me digging deeper (I was literally digging a hole at work today, but I mostly mean figuratively) as I reflect on my own life.

    Prayers Always,


  17. Makayla Wamboldt says:

    I am in awe of you Katie.

    Words are failing me right now, so I will just say that I love you dearly and am so unbelievably proud of you. Reading your words and seeing that photo of you have filled me with a joy nearly palpable, and a sweet eagerness to embrace your warm and (probably) sweaty body.

    Thank you friend for challenging and inspiring me every single day. I look forward to seeing how differently you wear the world upon your return.


  18. Grace Savinovich says:

    “The universe was made for me…I was made from dust, and from dust I shall return” – Katie Polacheck’s hands April 2015, when we went on retreat and there were explosions big and small.

    You have a nack for sharing the important words and threading them in important ways. The perfect linguistic quilt for us to safely blanket ourselves in. Like a damn little shield, to protect us from monsters. Well done. You help protect from monsters big and small.

    Big and small. Big and small…big and small. And somewhere in the middle. You navigate it all.

    I’ll see you on sidewalk in like 10 years okay? Sitting, trying to make it to a bathroom. Or in 10 months. Stay lovely until then.

    On a scale of one to five, how happy are you?


    (Zac. all my heart. Every time I walk by a Chipolte I think of you).

  19. Lee Polacheck says:

    After reading your beautiful post, and the many truthful comments, I have come to the realization that you do not need any more “assignments”. You have blossomed from my little girl, that loved to tell stories, into a young writer/mentor/woman. You truly have grown into yourself. I am proud to be on the sideline watching this process unfold.

    Love Dad.

  20. Claire Polacheck says:

    Beautiful post, sis! I’ve been checking the blog(and mom’s daily Facebook post) waiting for your turn every day. Your writing always makes me reflect, smile, and maybe cry a little bit. Usually just because of how much I miss you.

    No WI thunderstorms yet, but we did follow one home from NY. I chased it through the Poconos at a speed that made dad wince. I do have a nice stack of library books, though.

    I can’t wait to see you at the fourth! In the meantime, follow Uncle Greg’s advice and be good, and if you can’t be good, be careful.

    Much love,
    Bear & Aug

  21. Kim Wilcox says:

    Just beautiful, Katie!

    Love, Hayley’s mom

  22. Maddie Burns says:

    It’s just past 2am in Seattle right now. Sleep has been evading me tonight so I came back to read this post, once again. Katie, I, like everyone else, loved reading it. Today I FaceTimed Megan and we talked about you and Joel being in Zambia and about last summer when us, Zack, and Makayla would look forward to reading this blog together in London. Your writing is so moving and precise in this piece; it reflects your beauty. Reading it, I can’t help but think of this moment from M:P when we were at Full Circle and I was in awe of you and your ability to so easily connect to the women and communicate your love and respect for them. I know that’s what you are doing for all the Zags and Zambians you are with. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

    Katie B. and Elly- I love and miss you both dearly. Katie, I wish I could see you playing with the kiddos. I also know your empathetic and compassionate heart is bursting with love for the people you are with. And Elly, I know your gifts are fruitful in Zambia too. Your ability to listen deeply and speak with intentionality is beautiful and I’m sure it doesn’t go unnoticed along with your abundant positivity. Praying for energy and many more wonderful experiences and memories for you and the rest of the team.

    I took me a while to comment because I didn’t know what to say and everyone’s comments are so eloquent. But here it is, probably with typos, but also with love. For those of you that I know and those that I don’t, please know how deeply loved you are. So many people care about you and the work that you are doing. I read your blog often and hope all is well. Soak in deep the rest of your time in Zambia.
    Much love, Maddie Burns

  23. Amber Hahn says:

    Katie nana,

    You’re so very cool! What an adventurer!
    We are selling the cows, including Katie breaststroke. This means more time with you all, I hope.
    Keep going farther than is comfortable.

    Go. Love. Live.

    Aunt Amber

  24. Joanna says:

    (Better late than ever!) My power has been out for almost 24 hrs and with it went the wifi- a true Zambian moment. Headlights and all. (I guess that’s Murphy’s law, I get slightly behind on blogs and BAM).

    Speaking of that, what a beautiful blog- I expected nothing else, considering your writing talents. I’m so proud of you and it sounds like you are learning so much. As anyone of the Zambezi Faculty would say, the growth zone is the best zone. You are so strong Katie and that is one thing I love about you.

    I love imagining you in that big yellow room, walking to the market, jamming out to music while doing dishes and trying not to spill bleach everywhere, sitting on the steps of the convent and so on. Zambezi has always looked so good on you, flowers in your hair and all. You are truly there for a reason and it sounds like an amazing experience. Stay true to yourself and keep asking tough questions. I can’t wait to talk more about your experience.

    Much love,

  25. Cindi Rapp (Meg's mom) says:

    Hi Meg! We loved the picture of the group and the leadership empowerment team! You are amazing, wonderful, and adventurous! We can’t get over how blue the sky is in all the photos and how great it must be at night for stargazing! We love the stories that are being shared, the memories you are making and getting glimpses of your daily activities. We are so proud of you! Love you to the moon and back! ~Mom, Dad and Chris

  26. Doris Small says:

    Ever since you were born my first grandchild, you have brought joy. For the little things ” have some”, “put your head back and laugh” and “somebody get me out of here” to the days of Camp Grandma and Little Women it’s been a joyful journey. I am blown away by your writing and the wisdom you have acquired so early in life.
    I admire your ability to open your heart and give so much to others!
    Thanks for being my granddaughter!
    Lots of love,
    Grandma Doris

  27. Collin Price says:

    Goodness gracious. Beautiful words from a beautiful human. You are an inspiration to many many people, Katie, even if you are hesitant to accept it. Your words never fail to disappoint, in both their eloquence and wisdom. You have grown into Zambezi very well. I’m proud of you. I look up to you. I can’t wait to learn how you’ve put on Zambezi the second time.

  28. Kenzie Fuller says:


    When I read your post I thought, “she is the most beautiful child of God.” Child of God? Wait…I don’t believe in God. Most people know that I haven’t really believed in God for about 5 years now. But, there have been moments and a few people that have given me reasons to think otherwise throughout those five years. So I guess I’m not quite sure how to interpret my thought this morning. Thank you. Thank you for challenging me to rethink my values and habits and allowing me to grow as a person. Thank you for inspiring me as a woman and for putting words to the internal struggles of being a woman in society. I look up to you se very much. I hope you soak in all the Zambezi sunrises and sunsets these next few days. I wish I was there with you!

    Lots of love and ginger beer,

    Zambae 2015

  29. Doris Small says:

    Katie, my first born grandchild, you blow me away with your writing and your ability to share your thoughts and feelings! You are wise beyond your years, You have brought me joy from the beginning. The journey started with “have some”,”put your head back and laugh” and “somebody get me out of here” to the fun of Camp Grandma, Little Women and all those years of Girl Scout Camp. They are such wonderful memories. Thank you for being you.
    Lots of love.
    Grandma Doris

  30. Mckenzie Polacheck says:

    What a beautiful post! Even if you’re the younger cousin I look up to you more than I can say. Thank you for sharing this honest reflection. You are a beautiful soul and my heart is full thinking of all the people who get to experience that. Keep being you.
    July can’t come soon enough! See you so so soon.
    Love & Hugs,

  31. Doris Small says:

    Katie, You blow me away with your beautiful writing and ability to share your thoughts and feelings. You are wise beyond your years. My first born grandchild, you have brought me great joy. From the early years of “have some”, “put your head back and laugh” and “somebody let me out of here” to Camp Grandma, Little Women and the many years of Girl Scout Camp it’s been a great ride. I have many cherished memories. Thank you for being who you are! Lots of love, Granny

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