Six years ago, I had just arrived to the temporary bush camp in Fort Dauphin, Madagascar. Jet-lagged and a bit disoriented, my fellow conservationists and I set up our tents. We settled in for an adventure far from the countries we called home.
After drifting off to sleep briefly, I was awoken in the pitch darkness by far-off voices singing. Alternating from near and far, the groups of voices carried across camp as the traditions of Easter came to life. Classic hymns sung in the local dialect of Malagasy were recognizable. People walked door to door to wake their community to join them in the celebration of the day. Strong voices and rich chords of harmonies stirred my weary soul.
I remember being struck by how moving it was. How small I felt so far from my home and overcome with feelings of love and contentedness. I remember weeping and smiling. Reveling in how amazing the world is. How lucky I was to be part of it. The timing of the trip had worked out for me to witness this holiday tradition. It came at a time when I was searching for meaning and answers in my life. Wishing you all meaning and wonder this Easter.