When I arrive a few feet before him I stop at once. The kindness that radiates from him takes my breath away. My clutched hands loosen in the presence of his pure peace. When I look up into his eyes on me, I suddenly feel calm. This man is so still, like a high mountain lake without a ripple on the surface. Standing before him I cannot remember why I would ever feel disturbed. I feel like I am being held in his warm embrace, but he is two feet away. A strong sense of devotion to him rises up from within me.

I take a half-step closer and look carefully at his face. It is difficult to decide what he looks like because he seems to be continuously changing. I think he is tall, but then I am eye to eye with him. I think his face is narrow, but then it widens and all of the sudden I am looking at a great lion. When I am sure he is male, he then changes again and I see a feminine face. As soon as I decide I know what he is, then he changes. I stand here for some time watching this kaleidoscope of life forms. At first I want him to stay the same so I can count on what I am seeing, but the longer I watch I start to feel delighted and look forward to what will come next.

I want to show this ever-changing kaleidoscope man to Ato and then to my surprise Ato’s face becomes the face I am looking into. My heart lifts with my love for Ato. Then Ato’s facial features change into a child I do not know. The love in my heart remains the same for this unfamiliar child as it was for Ato. I did not know it was possible to feel the same love for a stranger. Then the face changes to a white woman. My love remains steady. I realize there is a space in my heart to hold love for every creature and person I am seeing. I am more capable of being loving than I thought. ​

Giving and receiving help, including others, and honoring yourself are ways to create belonging. Creating belonging is an antidote to alienation. What are the ways we can share our unique gifts unsparingly, while calling out the gifts of others?
An excerpt from my book when I first arrived to the village that took me in: “A woman sits down on a log and calls to me with her song. I know without a doubt in my heart that her song is a prayer to every living thing for miles around. She is saying, “I see you,” to every bush, monkey in the tree, mouse in the ground, and me. I am included in her song. Her song is linking me to every living thing. My lower lip starts to tremble uncontrollably. I can no longer maintain my expressionless face and I break into tears. I am utterly exhausted from surviving on my own. I move closer to her. When I look in her eyes and see a loving mother I collapse in her arms. That night I sleep inside a hut next to her. I hold onto the fabric of her dress so I know she is within reach. I am no longer lost, I have been found.” 

This is a group picture after I received the blessing by members of the community to share my experience with the people here during the Rhodesian Bush War. I arrived in Rhodesia in June 1977 after being abducted from the U.S. by an American man. After about a week he abandoned me in this rural area.   Photo credit Vanessa Bristow  

I found these remaining walls. It was valuable for me to find something to touch, to hold on to, so ultimately I could let go.  ​

April 21 - We arrived in Zimbabwe yesterday. After extremely little sleep during the 3 days of travel I am glad to say we finally slept last night. We can think and speak clearly again. Logistics have gone well, all our bags arrived, and getting Visas to come into Zimbabwe all went smoothly. 
We planned several days of rest for ourselves. We are on a beautiful farm where we are being well fed by our hosts. We have already met such kind people. As we stood in line to get Visas the man behind us shared with us that he was coming back to Zimbabwe after being in the Seattle area to go to University. He told us that once he was through the visa he was about to see his father for the first time in 15 years. He, John, and I  all got welled up in tears.  
The strongest event for me yesterday as we drove in from the airport was seeing a cluster of huts. My whole body reacted. I wanted to get out of the car and go there. John said he felt like a part of me lurched out of the vehicle to go there. Where we right now is still 4 hours away from where we believe I was a child in 1977. 
We planned today and Saturday as rest and integration days. On Sunday Vanessa will come pick us up and take us to her Eco Safari Ranch where we will be closer to our goal. This is location research. I know my body will tell me when we are there.  This is the tree I am seeing in front of me while I write this on my lap top. More to come...Now I am going to go watch cream being churned by hand. 

​38 days until we get on a plane for South Africa, then Zimbabwe! We are doing well in our preparations. Vanessa and Digby, who are the people who found Maemu, are hosting us for two weeks. They live close to where we believe is the original location of my village, and also close Maemu's community. Their generosity is astounding to me.  After they take us across the Zimbabwe border we will continue our research in South Africa. If we are correct in our research, we will be staying in Mapungubwe Park within a mile of where I was taken across the border. Being there with the sights, sounds, and smells is the heart of my location research. Our next step is to hire a researcher to seek out any records of my 1977 hospital stay in South Africa. In between all the logistics that have to be arranged, I pause and can hardly believe this trip is finally happening - for 40 years I have been waiting for this return.

A special thank you to all who have donated toward our journey. So far, your donations have covered 50% of our needs for the trip. Thank you also to everyone who is supporting us with your thoughts and prayers. It means so much to me that I have a supportive community involved in this adventure. This is an incredible contrast to being abducted in secrecy as a child. You are all part of my healing.

On our way home from doing our first aid training, we stopped at a store to get first aid and food supplies for the Africa trip. As I took things off the self and put them in my cart I thought, "I am going to eat this in Zimbabwe." When John rejoined me and asked me how I was doing I burst into tears because my gratitude at being able to answer the call in my heart and do this return trip was overwhelming. There really are no words just this feeling that I have been waiting so long and this return trip is really happening.

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I spend the night alone in the bush. I am hungry, but I found a tree where I can tuck myself in between the great fin roots. In the morning I hear singing voices. I make my way to a tribe who gives me water and food. It is the children who first welcome me. With laughter and storytelling, they take me to a fire circle and cover my white skin and light brown hair with black ash.

A woman comes near and calls me to her with a singing voice like I have never heard before. I have been fighting to survive on my own, and don’t know if I can trust any adult. She keeps pouring love into me with her song. I finally come to her and collapse in her arms. I start existing when I look in her eyes and see a loving mother. I am no longer lost, I have been found. 

This tribe becomes my new family. Over the next month they teach me how to sing their songs, and how to plant and harvest. I am given my own dress and a naming ceremony. My village is peaceful until a group of armed guerrillas rides in shouting and making threats. After they leave the men in our tribe began to carry guns. 
Days later, the guerrillas come near the village again. I am alone by the river when they spot me. I see one of the soldiers in the back of the military truck begin to take aim at me. I lose all hope when the sight of his gun barrel becomes just a circle. I am in mid-turn to run when I hear his gun go off. The force of the bullet grazes the top right side of my head and slams my teeth together with the force of a car wreck. I am knocked off my feet and thrown sideways to the ground. I blink my eyes open, hoping to see someone from my tribe who can help me. My final sight is my own dark red blood rolling down toward the blue river. I close my eyes and feel everything I am swept out an open window at the back of my heart.