WHERE IS HOME
By
Sophia Jenkins

Is it where I was born?

Where grow fields of corn.


Is it where I grew up?

Where I drank tea by the cup.


Is it where I lived for a year?

Where I made friends so dear.


Is it where I moved to?

Where I must begin anew.


It is way up above,

Where in the end I’ll fly to like a dove.

Sophia, lives in Kigali, Rwanda. She recently spent a year with her parents at Oklahoma Christian University where her dad was a Missionary in Residence. Before moving to Oklahoma City, Sophia lived in Kampala, Uganda. Sophia is 13 years old and in the 7th grade. I found her poem stunning. The poem is used with permission.

Yellow Rose
by Miranda Brazle

The beautiful little girl was walking along the stream. Some steps she made were very difficult and she nearly fell. Occasionally she did fall, but she got back up and kept walking. She had fun jumping from one rock to another. It was challenging, yet exciting. Often she stopped to admire the nature around her. She listened to the sound of the water, watched the stream flow, looked up at the trees waving in the wind and bent down to enjoy the smell of the flowers. Her eyes fell on a single yellow rose. She looked around and saw no others. She wondered why this one beautiful yellow rose was so alone. She wondered where its home was. She felt like that rose was made just for her, because that is exactly how she felt. She thought about this as she kept walking. She continued along the path as she had before; jumping with joy, falling and picking herself right back up. She also continued to ponder about this yellow rose she found and what it meant to her. She felt torn between two places; two cultures. She did not belong to either and felt alone, like the rose. She saw other roses along the path, but no yellow ones. She knew there were other people in her life from each culture she grew up with. But none of them grew up with both cultures. She saw red roses and white roses, but none of the people in her life were yellow, like her. She started declaring her thoughts out loud. Her father, who was with her the whole time and had been leading and helping her, intently listened to her. He led her to a field of roses. She saw roses of more colors than she could imagine. There were also yellow roses of different shades of yellow. The different colors made one big beautiful picture. The little girl realized that she did not need to be the same as others to be home. She needed to be with her father in the midst of all of His other beautiful roses.

Miranda Brazle is a student at Oklahoma Christian University in Edmond, Oklahoma. Miranda has lived in Canada, the United States and Belgium, where her parents were missionaries for many years. Miranda attended Flemish speaking schools and is able to speak both Flemish and French. Her essay is used with permission.

Missionary Kids, while feeling at home everywhere and nowhere, learn far sooner than the rest of us where "home" really is. It is way up above where Sophia will fly like a dove and it is holding the Father's hand in Miranda's field of multi-colored roses. It is sometimes feeling all alone. It is sometimes appreciating the beauty of multi-colored humanity. It is falling down and getting up. It all occurs under the scrutiny of a loving Father, who leads, helps, listens and demonstrates his care to us as we walk in wonder and in faith.

Thank you Sophia and Miranda for sharing your thoughts with us all.