Life has been far from ordinary the past year. Unknowns. Discomforts. Different languages. Different foods. Different currency. Different places to call home. Different beds. Different restrooms (or lack thereof). It has made for a different ‘us.’ My husband said several months ago that Romania will not leave you indifferent. And it has not.

Returning to the States was overwhelming given the surrounding constant stimuli. Was everything always so bright? So bold? So BIG? The vehicles, the stores, the houses, the yards... Were people always this hurried? Were their faces always filled with such unhappiness and intense worry? Balancing the stressful demands of the personal - careers and marriages and children - in order to maintain the highly impersonal - mortgages and vehicles and vacations - costs us as a nation, our health and our lives.

Admittedly, it has been nice to be "off the radar" for a few months - no blogs and no photos! A quote from the Real Lessons of Leadership comes to mind - "Silence is the most fertile medium for creativity and vision."

Since our return to the States, time set aside to “just be” has been amazingly refreshing for the soul. Time spent quietly savoring the treasures Romania settled in the crevices of our hearts. Time spent sharing the journey with family and friends. Time spent exploring through writing, reading, experiencing the outdoors, as well as listening and observing intensely, like the months in Romania. Merely, respecting and appreciating the presence of Time with a renewed sense of the importance of experiencing fully each moment, as it never comes again.

Romania helped me rediscover the beauty in the simple moments of life. My Romania is witnessing the tiny, colorful blooms peeking through the cold earth in the spring to the vibrant, lush greens and yellows in the summer heat to the withering browns in the autumn breeze. I remember the drenching, cold rains in May and June dampening our motorcycle adventure, yet providing more time to serve at Caminul Felix Children's Villages. I remember the smell of wood fires still providing warmth and serving food in the mountain regions in July. I remember the unbelievable sweltering heat of the plains in August, as we were trapped under layers of protective motorcycle gear. I remember the flavors of the fresh vegetables, fruits and cheeses, and the delectable tastes of homemade breads and sweets. I remember (and can almost taste) the environmental pollutions emitting from the factories and vehicles.

But my Romania was found in the hospitality of the people in the countryside. It was their friendly smiles, their extended hand in welcome, and their warm embrace welcoming me to experience their community. My Romania too is the beautiful faces of the children of Caminul Felix Children's Villages.

I finished Robert Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and found the final paragraph to state so aptly: "Trials never end, of course. Unhappiness and misfortune are bound to occur as long as people live, but there is a feeling now, that was not here before, and is not just on the surface of things, but penetrates all the way through. We've won it. It's going to get better now. You can sort of tell these things."

There is a sense that we have won it. It - the prize of life, the peace of existence. Continue to follow our journey as we open our hearts to a new direction in 2007. -- HSR