Rafika and I sat on a mat in her shelter in the refugee camp, drinking 3-in-1 instant coffee. I watched her rock her little daughter to sleep, wondering to myself how her daughter might fare growing up here amidst oppression and violence. I asked Rafika, 'What is your earliest childhood …
Main Content
The Power of Stories
One evening, I felt like I needed to visit one of my good Rohingya friends. As I left my apartment, I took a small packet of English stories with me. This English story packet contained several short parables of Jesus. For a long time, I had been wanting to share this packet with my friend to see if …
An End to the Pattern
“There was another fire early this morning. It was their apartment complex.” I felt sick. Not again. This was not the kind of message I expected to receive, especially on a holiday. I searched the news. The names of the apartments listed were the homes of my friends. I began making rounds to call …