7 people, 6 hours, 1 fridge, 1 bakkie, and a partridge in a pear tree

On Monday I felt like a mother. I was saying good-bye to my children on the first day of school. The day started at 6:00 am. I'll spare you the details of the classic disorganized African start. Two hours later, Jayme, Elvis, Fortunate, Gugu, Stanford, Regina, me, a fridge, and the students' belongings loaded into the single cab bakkie and headed off to begin a journey I'm sure no one would ever think is possible. I'm not talking about the six hours of cramped and crammed travel but rather the fact that 4 Masoyi orphans were beginning University.

It's been four days and I still want to cry.

Incredibly resilient people with a strength I could never understand. People who have gone to ridiculous measures just to survive. People who have had to endure a grief far beyond anything I could understand. People who are destined to fail. People ignored, overlooked, left-behind, pushed to the side.

These are the ones that said "I'm going to make it." These are the ones that held onto a promise from God and a promise to themselves that they will bring change to those with the same story.

This is God's style.

Before I came to Africa, all I wanted to do was change the world. Many people told me I was going to change the world. But that's not God's style.

These are the beautiful faces of the ones who are going to change the world: