I Gave A Spur-Of-The-Moment Christmas Gift — And Asked Myself A Hard Question
I had gone home to rural Zimbabwe for the holiday. In the village shop, two skinny young boys came in to buy cooking oil and bread. They hoped to use any leftover change to buy treats.
Last year, my wife, daughter, and I traveled from the U.S. to my childhood village in Zimbabwe for the holidays.
As far as nostalgia goes, nothing for me beats holidays at my childhood rural home. The entire village feels very much like one happy family reunion as folks from nearby cities, neighboring countries and overseas converge in their childhood homes to celebrate the festive season. I am especially proud to share this tradition with my Hungarian wife and my American-raised daughter.
On Christmas Day, with a dreamy head, I woke up to the familiar sound of my mother calling my name and knocking on my door, which instantly transported me back to my
