By, Alexa Leigh Valavanis

Friends,

I am blogging to invite you to participate in a round table discussion re: the formation of an international humanitarians group (Sierra Nevada Brewery, February 15th at NOON).

I hope you don’t mind if I begin this blog with a journal entry I wrote while working in Guatemala. I share these words with you now, as if they were written yesterday, for my passion for international humanitarian work has not subsided. In fact, I share this particular entry with you because it was on this day, many moons ago, that I committed my career to helping our brothers and sisters around the globe (and here at home).
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2003. Land of Eternal Spring.

He woke in a field of green with the soft concentration of the Latin sun against his back. The generous shade from the glossy coffee leaves dangled overhead and provided a subtle transition from his dreams to his day. The world was quiet save a few morning birds, as the final dew drops whispered on their ascent back to heaven. His hands were stained from yesterday’s labor. His jeans and shirt resembled the earth he worked inside. His teeth were dirty. His feet were sore. His morning thoughts still caught in the dream he’d had each night for the past two years.

In his dream, he walked for miles until he reached his village. It was here, where his wife and children worked to keep their modest hut, from tin-roof to dirt floor, clean and ready for papa’s return. He stepped onto the porch and the familiar smell of homemade tortillas and chicken soup dropped him to his knees. It had been too many days and nights of longing to let go of standing up. In the dream, his children wore clean clothing and smiles as they shared stories from school. He looked outside and noticed even the old avocado tree, which stood bent outside the kitchen window for decades, had a youthful sway. They ate and laughed, and carried on as the crescent moon begged for their attention. He told his family memories collected from the coffee fields; about the ripening fruits he name