Being home is so impossibly hard. I was warned it would be hard. Maybe because I would see some desperate things and it'd make me appreciate what I have. Maybe I would experience how much I take for granted and swear “never again.” These are all beautiful reasons. And they all most definitely happened to me. But what makes it impossibly hard are the kids. Not just being around them, but getting to know them. Learning their names and their stories. Seeing where they live. Promising them you'd return. Coming to know a great need and wanting so badly to never stop being a part of the answer. An answer that is so easy. So tangible. Not just financial needs—of which there are plenty—but to be a warm body and a role model. I felt like a fraud when I stepped off that plane because I didn't prepare myself. And once I was there, I knew my lists were waiting for me back home. I realized I didn't have anything to give these people. All the things I do at home seemed so dramatically insignificant when I arrived in Kitale. And what good were they to me here? But what I needed to give these kids was simple. They needed me to be the man I am when I have nothing. When everything is left behind. No pride. No second guessing. No time to be embarrassed about singing silly songs at the top of my lungs. In a split second, here I was and they needed everything inside of me. After all, that's exactly what they gave to us so freely day in and day out. I tried my hardest to give it to them. It broke my heart. And now all I want is to be back.

The return home commenced a mad scramble to sift through the logistics of sponsoring. The incredible thing about the Makani's being a small operation—or on paper, essentially just two people making good in a horrible situation—is that all aspects of Seeds are completely untangled from any large Western organization. Or anything that might make our cynical minds wander. With no offense to the great organizations that do exist, we've all heard horror stories about folks skimming more than enough off the top, or even worse, fronts for something else altogether. The trade-off is that sponsoring a child at Seeds and sending money is not a quick and easy process. Which is a reasonable enough compromise I think.

As we speak, there is a wheel in motion. Matilda Jane Clothing is developing a foundation (Mighty Acorn Foundation) to help manage the sponsoring of children and financial donations to the work the Makani's are doing in Kitale. This means that you'll be able to read about specific day-to-day needs and give accordingly. And you'll be able to sponsor a child! The first priority is to find girls to fill the new 100-child orphanage. A team is returning to Kitale in the beginning of May to work with the Makani's and help tell the stories of the girls who are candidates to be rescued. The Mighty Acorn Foundation will launch a website where you can read about the girls we've met and even sponsor them before the completion of the new orphanage. I don't have any more information than that at the moment, but I'm sure if you follow Matilda Jane, you'll hear about its progress soon enough!

And lastly—Francis and Cynthia! It's the most incredible feeling to be able to type these words: Francis and Cynthia now live in the orphanage! They've been rescued from the slum and reunited with Ezekiel. I haven't been able to talk to Ezekiel since it happened but I cannot wait to hear his voice. I can't even imagine the feeling—to know your siblings are safe. And have the freedom to be a kid again! To dream! It's unreal. If my only purpose in getting to visit Kitale was to meet Ezekiel and be a small part of the rescuing of his brother and sister, so be it. I'll never forget them for the rest of my life.