January 20, 2016
I want to clarify that the people who let me live in their house (for a week) did their best to make me feel welcome. I'm not sure why this Baguio memory is creeping up on me today. Maybe it's because I am finally understanding all the reasons, well, almost all, why people do what they do to make someone feel welcome or not. Anyway, it's Thursday, what are your fondest memories of this day? Does it include cotton candies? A familiar voice on the radio? Bikes? Cookies and milk? A letter you've been waiting for? A child sleeping soundly?