Arriving at Joseph Korbel school ;Denver University; The scholarship and the drama

It’s now September 2nd 1998. It’s busy, helter skelter chaos at every departmental faculty at the University of Denver. I am nervous and scared to death. I sit outside the Penrose library overlooking the Joseph Korbel School of international studies watching enviously at the students hurrying up and down to register for classes. I wanted to join them and register for classes. But I could not. I needed to first get clearance with the Financial Director and issued with a number that shows that I have paid in full for my tuition, books and in order to access the library facilities. I had not. I could not. But I am already here. Yes, here at my dream graduate school. Yes, here in America, far away from home.


So now I am watching people walking by. Some walking in pairs, some looking like lovers who are talking about taking the same class as they can’t get enough of each other, holding hands lovingly. I wanted someone to hold me and hug me at that moment too. I needed someone to hug me and tell me all will be okay. But I had no one to do so and I was all alone. Some students walked by in groups talking animatedly and I felt invisible and useless.

Some passed by looking silent and lost into their own thoughts to notice my miserable self seated there with my hands folded into myself scared and nervous. Some just had freaky faces that spelled bully, some had “interesting” accents that I couldn’t understand. Some students parted their lips with a slight smile to acknowledge me but did not stop to say hello so I got all the more confused. I wondered why one can smile at another and not stop to at least say a verbal hello. Why smile in the first place and what purpose is such a smile? I desperately needed someone to talk to and I was beginning to get angry at those smiles as they reflected a mockery of my situation. To calm down my senses, I took time to awe at the magnificent brown buildings that looked as old as education itself, the beautifully manicured lawns and once in a while was fascinated by the situation albeit the nervousness of what the future was for me at the University of Denver.

Now while seated there, I was contemplating many things. But I do not quite understand where to begin neither did I know what my options are. I felt lost, lonely and desperate. I do not know how long I sat there, but at some instant moment, I remembered my family and my mother’s embrace at the airport. I wondered what my family was doing and what they could be talking about as I sat there on the Penrose Library stair wells feeling lost and needing someone who could hear my story and help. What if they knew that they just bid me goodbye to a land where no one would help me? What if this was the end of my life? What if they knew that their bold first born child that always found a way out of issues is now lost in a foreign country? What if they knew that I felt empty ? I wept. I cried. Afraid to attract any unnecessary attention, I slowly rose up and lazily walked back to the Mr. and Mrs. Duffy’s house that I now called home. At least I had paid rent until the 15th of September, after which the likelihood of being thrown out and becoming homeless was slowly becoming a reality.

Meanwhile I still had at least three weeks to decide what to do and also plan on how the 100 dollars could keep me surviving for the remaining three weeks that I had a rental room at the Duffy’s family basement. In the 30 minutes walk, I remembered my grandfather’s advice that while you are lost, seek inside for directions. Yeah right grandpa! What has seeking inside got to do with this situation I am now in? I argued.



What’s the possibility of getting a tuition waiver or scholarship considering I am foreign student from Kenya and not sure if I had time to apply for any such help? What would the faculty say to me if they realized that I had no tuition to pay for my classes albeit the fact that I had indicated on my application forms that I had enough money to pay for my tuition? Would that be considered a lie? How can I explain that I had to tell them I had money so that I get the admission and how does that reflect on me? What if I wrote to the faculty and remind them that my country of Kenya is a big friend and ally of United States and on that basis they should give me a scholarship? Yeah, that’s sounded stupid and lightly ridiculous at best. Oh, what if I just went to the faculty seeking a meeting with the Financial Director and ask her to pay for my school tuition and I would work for her in return? Great! I could not as the law prohibited any one on a student visa to accept a job unless authorized to do so by the immigration department, at least you could work on campus for 8 dollars an hour for 10 hrs a week. Great! that’s 80 dollars a week! 400 dollars a month! Weep! weep! weep!

The faculty would not allow me to register for classes paying 80 dollars a week, besides, what would I have to eat out of that 80 dollars. At that moment, I was slowly giving up and losing hope of being able to make it in America. I was indeed lost and hopeless. I kept walking passed the Duffy’s house. I wanted to keep on waking to nowhere. It felt soothing and at least calming. So I kept on waking.

I came across a group of kids laughing out loud and chasing each other at a small park across the other end of University Boulevard couple miles from the University grounds. I stopped and watched them. I wished I could be them. For a moment I was transported back to my childhood days and I felt a surge of renewed hope. In that moment something stirred up inside of me. I was not about to give up. I had to come up with a daring solution. Just like the carefree laughter of the children I felt like a child needing help. And all I had to do is talk to someone about my situation. I had to.

Remembering my mothers hugs and tears, my grand fathers words of “fight like a soldier who knows what she fights for”, I had to strike a balance of the situation with every ounce of my spirituality and being knowing that this was a battle for my life. I had to fight for my life. I had to fight my American dream. And just like my grandpa’s “ soldier who knows what she fights for” I knew I had to fight for me. It felt like being called to get out of yourself, travel into the higher dimension within you and seek in there. It’s like being transported in an instant moment to an outer space within me, out of here but within here kind of feeling, if you know what I mean. I felt a whole surge of energy lift me up. Some inner inaudible but clear soft whisper that kept on telling me that I can go beyond what was happening and what I was feeling overwhelmed me. I choose to be an ambassador of my situation and communicate to someone else boldly without the fear of consequences. You see, truth sometimes is a good boat across a rough ferry bridge.

I began realizing that lot of students that got the same opportunity as me came from varied backgrounds and yet I was the same as them by virtue of my academic competitiveness unless I chose not to see it that way. I knew I can not let my people down. I couldn’t be a quitter. I knew I could not be timid and I had to boldly face my situation with truth. We are all kind of the same and yet that sameness becomes more beautiful when we are not afraid of what makes us different, unique and like our own self. I thought I am the same too with all those students I saw registering for classes only different and with a unique situation that deserved to be heard by someone.

I couldn’t afford to be timid or afraid of whoever is big out there, I’ve always been a person that’s a little bit unique in my thinking since childhood, in a way. I’m not quite a follower, I’m a leader of my own self. And this was a moment to prove my bold believe in self. You see, the universe works in a way that we don’t understand but there must be something about me in the damn universe that I had to find out what it is. I was about to reveal to someone that I had no money but I had to be at the Joseph Korbel School of International Studies of the University of Denver. I had to discover the mystery that is me.

I’m intrigued by mystery, I’m a devout Christian, and I like to balance spirituality with all situations that befall me. So a combination of my fascination and curiosity to find the unknown and my faith in spiritual intervention, I walked slowly back home just in time for dinner with the Duffy family. It was a Friday and I knew that Mr. and Mrs. Duffy are usually home early. I just thought I will break the news during dinner time. The conversation went something like this: Good evening guys? Oh..Hi…nice jacket you have on Mr. Duffy...hey…ahh…oh….anyway…ahhhh…well..Mr. ..well duffy and Stella, ahh..I Was wondering whether I can talk to you? Sure, Mr. Duffy responds. Well, you see….ahh. It’s kind of complicated…a bit insane…you see I will not be able to pay rent for next month and was also wondering whether you would be willing to pay for my first semester in school and I will re-pay you back as soon as I get a job….ahhh..pleaseee!pleaseeee! Ahh..I Know it’s insane. But please hear me out. I couldn’t believe what I was telling my host family. I shifted an intense nervous sheepish goofy look straight into Mr. Duffy’s wife, Miss Stella’s eyes and then stared straight back into Mr. Duffy’s eyes and hoped he could say something no matter what that something was.

I also thought I must be insane but felt a sigh of relieve that finally I have let them know my situation without caring what the consequences would be. Would they throw me out of the house? Would they call police on me for failure to pay rent? Would they call the university from which I was referred to them and demand that I be kicked out into the cold Denver nights? Would they not talk to me and ban me from their kitchen banishing me to the damn basement? What? What?
While my mind is speeding up with “what ifs”….there followed a heart wringing loudly deafening silence for a long one minute that seemed to be an eternity. No one spoke for a long while. The only sound was the sound of spoons, knifes and folks as everyone dug more servings from the salad bowl in the middle of the dining table and the occasional barking from Bagel the family dog and baby as he begged for bites. I can’t explain how much salad and corn on the cob I ate that evening as that’s the only thing I did to keep my embarrassment at bay and at least occupy myself while I awaited for my fate at the Duffy’s house.

I wanted the earth to open and swallow me leaving no trace of me anywhere on this miserable damn earth. And just like that, that Mr. Duffy breaks the silence by humming some inaudible song or whispers that scared the living day light out of me. He seemed to be humming a gospel hymn or something close to it. Perhaps he was humming a song whose lyrics had something to do with “how crazy can this Kenyan be and how crazily daring is her immigration to the united states? Or perhaps he might have been thinking “oh poor tribal girl from Kenya, how lucky it’s us that you chose for a host family otherwise elsewhere they would kick your damn black bottom and tell you to go die deep into the African jungle you came from! Damn! Damn you.

I could not make out what he was humming about but I knew for sure the song had something about how crazy I must be to assume that I can move to America, ask for free accommodation and then have the audacity to ask for school tuition! Damn! I can be daring. Quite the audacity to live and audacity to seek help even among perfect strangers. Damn, I thought of myself. But what’s wrong with being daring?

To cut a long story short, Mr. Duffy and his wife recovered from the shock of what I just told them. He lifts his weight off the chair and walks slowly to the kitchen. Pulls out a drawer that had a small booklet. Flips through the pages and fishes out a number. He points at the number and looks at me, gathers my right hand and holds it tight but tenderly, pulls his chair close to me, smiles with a friendly attitude on his face and says…”well, Alice, I don’t think that I can pay for your tuition babe. I just cannot. But I tell you what we can do, do not worry about rent at all. You will pay us rent when you get money. You do not have to worry for food; we have plenty in this house for all of us including Bagel the dog and family baby”. And so, my dear Kenyan friend, he continues his monologue.
What you need to do is take this number and write it down. It’s the number for a woman named Karen Middleton. She is the Financial Director and international students Co-coordinator at Joseph Korbel School of international studies at DU. Okay, Are you with me? I am now trembling, shaking and my skin covered with conspicuously goose bumps from no where. I raise my head from the ground that I had been staring at all this time, looked up and said. Yes, Mr. Duffy. I get that. “Now, what you need to do is go to sleep and then tomorrow morning I will drive you to see Miss Karen Middleton and you MUST tell her what you just told me. Okay, goodnight and see you in the morning 8Am American time! I could not dare be late.
I wanted to rise up and hug both of them. I wanted to scream with joy and praise God for such kind people and for their understanding welcome to their home albeit my disastrous situation and almost daring believe in them. I wanted to ask God to make them into millionaires and to give them eternal health and beauty in the whole state of Colorado. I wanted to cry with joy but neither of all these could explain how grateful I was at Mr. Duffy’s words.
That night I barely slept a single wink. I stayed up for most part of the night staring into the roof, wondering and pondering on possibilities and what will happen at the meeting with the lady, Karen Middleton. The name was synonymous with the person in whose hands my life depended. I was quite a nervous wreck.
By morning I was awakened from dreamland by the sounds of Bagel barking as Stella opened the front porch to let him out for his biological functions. I took a quick shower and walked upstairs to find Mr. Duffy already and set to go. We had very little to talk about but he seemed to be so concerned. I saw him and thought of the father I have never had. Al this time wondering what my life would have been like if we had a father that truly loved us and never abandoned us. I wondered whether that’s what it feels like to have your father at your side on your first trip to college.

I was teary eyed for many reasons but on that morning I felt loved and cared for albeit not knowing what awaited me ahead. We rode for the less than ten minutes ride to the admissions department at Denver University school of International studies straight onto Karen Middleton’s office. We all talked for awhile. Mr. Duffy filled her in on my difficulties and financial situation while informing her that him and his wife had decided not to charge me any rent and would let me live there for a while as I figured out my situation. Then he excused himself and left the room planting a friendly pat on my back and winked at me with re-assurance. I explained to her my entire situation reminding her of my academic prowess and capabilities. I knew this is my moment to shine if I would have to get a chance.



She pulled out from her drawer what was my file containing signed documents I had sent while in Nairobi. Took a moment to review all of the application forms and associated correspondences leading to my admission. Then she raised her head up and without asking any questions looked me and said to me “Well, well, Alice, there is a wonderful Program at Joseph Korbel School of International studies, formerly GSIS, sponsored by a very compassionate, generous and quite amazing wealthy woman, her name is Mrs patterson whose foundation donates money towards the education of bright, talented and promising international students especially women from developing countries. The goal of this program is to expand the university of Denver student diversity.

We have found it quite rewarding as we seem to be attracting the best students from all over the world. You see, she continued…ahhh, well, It s the pride of this school to see most of our students graduate from this school, well equipped to go back to their countries and change lifes over there. Its surely great”. We are all connected and this school is surely working its mission to incorporate a global agenda in its curriculum. And that includes have a certain amount of money set aside for students like you Alice. I will be glad to write you a letter of recommendation and speak to the dean about your case but to be honest, Alice, I think that the best thing that you could do is to write a personal letter to the office of admissions and to Mrs. Patterson foundation. Tell them what you told me. Just speak from your heart. That will give you as good as any chance at getting accepted at the University of Denver. Again I think Iam impressed with your grades and perhaps we can as well give you a chance.

Now at this point I am pinching myself to ensure that I am not dreaming or hallucinating. I cannot explain the enormous joy that lay stuck inside my chest. I wanted to burst out with a native dance and ululations. I wanted to shout and praise and praise and halleluiah and do all the global Amen’s…..So you get the picture? Anyway Karen then sets an appointment where I had to meet with the dean and some other faculty members to discuss my case and see whether I would qualify for the Patterson Fellowship and tuition waiver on Books tore and library facilities. I did have the meeting. I wrote the letter explaining all that I have narrated above. And yes. They deemed me a competitive candidate for the fellowship based on merit and my academic scores on my GRE AND GMAT testing evaluations. Viola! Two weeks later I received a life changing letter that read like this…..
Dear Alice Kariuki,
Congratulations on your scholarship and admission to the Joseph Korbel School of International Studies of the University of Denver. We wish you well and a smooth settling in to the rocky mountains and at the Denver community…………….welcome....

Let me say the rest is history. The letter changed my life. I am proud to say that this wonderful Rocky mountains great great University gave me a chance. They gave me a chance to freedom. They believed in me planting a permanent love and faith in the angelic nature of even the perfect strangers that cross our paths. Perfect strangers who seem to be angels walking on earth. For those students seeking admission into a perfect university, those pursuing interests in policy advocacy, international business, trade, philanthropic management, this is the school to apply to. A great mid west school that gives chance and also kindly caters to students with academic promise but who lack the financial resources to pay for a college education. University of Denver is my very own alma mater. Two years later I walked proudly to receive my masters degree certificate that gave me an academic badge that read something like this:
Alice Kariuki:
Masters of Arts
International Trade & Sustainable Development; M.P.A Public Health
The Joseph Korbel School of International Studies; University of Denver, Colorado

B.A [Creative writing & Linguistics, English Literature & Sociology }
Kenyatta University Nairobi, Kenya.

Talking to ourselves Stories for self reflection:

This is the the easy-to-use self-help program offered by this website. It is a collection of short stories that form a safe, incredibly simple, user-friendly tool for personal transformation. By simply reading our stories, a person’s energy is influenced through the exchange of subtle energies between the holographic worlds of the stories and the vibrating heart and mind of the reader. This program is a unique adventure into the exciting new realms of personal mythology, sacred positive psychology and mirror neurons. It brings forth the natural abilities of the soul to transform, navigate, and create inner reality.



These transformational stories are designed to gently expand the reader’s internal imagery, feelings and beliefs in highly positive and benevolent directions. This process reveals and unlocks the orchestrated fields of awareness that are native to the soul as it pulses into creation from the quantum center of the Universe ... through your own quiet center of stillness, within.

The simple purpose behind this program is to help the reader shift to more harmonious states of being. Such intimate, often outwardly-invisible transformations are significant achievements for any individual. They are also the necessary forerunners to providing a sheltered womb for the incubation of a grand and precious dream ... a dream of wholeness so profound that it transcends our present life and this world. Encoded within these stories is the essence of a remarkable vision — not only of you, but of humanity’s future as well.

Mental arrows shot from another’s bow

The mental arrows shot from another’s bow is practically harmless, unless our own thought barbs it. Damn, thats cool stuff. Indeed it is our pride that makes another’s deed trully pricky and offensive, our big ego that feels hurt by another’s person’s self-assertion and expression. Who is this enemy that you trully should’nt love ? Is it a creature or a thing outside thine own creation? Can you see an enemy, except you first formulate this enemy and then look upon the object of your own conception? whats inside of you I ask? What is it that harms you that resides outside of you?

Seeing yourself in the ugly "other"

A woman so strong. A woman so brave that she returned over and over to rescue her own as she saw herself in each one of them. Even the stupid among them, she was to liberate them as her view and vibrations were led by seeing herself in each of the suffering slaves. She inspires me. While violence isn’t something I subscribe to normally, I can understand why the legendary slave Harriet Tubman felt it necessary to keep a weapon of defence with her at all times just in case the snakes of betrayal loam their ugly heads along her path of escape to freedom. The gun she carried was not just to be used on the slave master’s bounty hunters but was kept ready to demolish the most lethal of her obstacles and demons among her own people; slaves turned traitors, the snakes between our mattresses, the wolfs in sheep’s skin, the enemy within.

Before each escape she made it clear to the escaping slaves that she would deal with them with fair love. Elimination if they dont love themselves. Paradox huh? She would growl on the faces of all those who wanted to escape with her in the harbor, and say to them, “If you don’t follow me when I go out, I’m going to kill you. Go forward and live or turn back and die.”. Those were harsh but necessary words. She already had used the sword effectively with love and no one dies.


And this reminds me of the simple teacher from Galilee who in my mind was equally crazily daring to say things like “Turn the other cheek, and let them strike you again! Give them love in return for hate. Then Iam thinking, yea geez, its coz you are half God. Its not always easy to love suckers who do you wrong. But since you insist and I respect you, then may be I will always force myself to do so.

Well at least I have been feeling fair towards this teachings from the carpenter's son, especially when I understood that if you must take up the sword, then do it in great reluctance, and only after you have stepped aside time and time again. Remember that I bring you not peace, but a sword,for this Path will separate you from your families and friends, and your enemies will persecute you in their ignorance.”

Yo! remember moses in the wilderness. He had to master his emotions to survive leading a bunch of hebrew runaway slaves. No sooner had they almost found their freedom from their captor than they began little whispers, murmuring and throwing tantrums about being hungry and preferring their slave pumpkins and their captors pallets to the harsh desert conditions they now faced (Exodus 16:3). Men! human beings never cease to amaze me....I will be writting more on this subject matter in a future blog....

But for now, I wonder what kind of a man Moses had to be as I would have kicked some ass and damn them back to slavery if that’s what they wanted. I am so sure Moses may have complained to God about these ungrateful bargers, but, surely, wouldn’t moses have mobilized his lieutenants and colonels to smark the heads of the devious among them, dump them behind or single out the weak quiters and exhausted complainers who did not “get it”? Perhaps dissuade the runaway fugitives from turning back and betraying the entire crew to Pharoah’s army about the whereabouts of the Hebrew camp somewhere in the wilderness? I dont know about you? but that what Iam thinking. what you think?

Who am I kidding, I came to learn that Moses was operating from a vibration higher than the emotions evoked by the complainers. Perhaps he was ahead of the game and knew the old wisdom that every organized group, family, movement, relationship, comradeship will always have wolves in sheep’s skin, traitors, quiters, turncoats, defectors, betrayers, venomous snakes under the mattress and people who will never get it. To hate such people is to betray wisdom and to reflect back on them the very same defeatist low vibrations they emit is not love. That makes me feel better now.

Of course, we must urgue that in a not so primitive civilization, everyone has a right to change heart and to express their convictions even if that means sharing the views of the oppresor against their own kind. They can join the enemies camp if they care as that’s their freedom, will and choice. For, don’t we all prop those that serves our interests and shun those that don’t? At least I do. Most of the time.

In the end, no one makes enemies unless they see what they hate about themselves being reflected in others. Hate is a reflection of what inside of you that stirs your stomach upside down. You cannot love if you have no love inside of you. This gets to be a really challenging battle. How can you do good to and love someone who has just said words about you intended to wound and destroy? How can you not feel anger, and fear, and the hate that rises so easily from them?


Once again I found some pretty useful words from somewhere…. “Love your enemies, or you will not lose them; and if you love them, you will lose enemies while reforming them;” “The mental arrows shot from another’s bow is practically harmless, unless our own thought barbs it. Damn, thats cool stuff.

Indeed it is our pride that makes another’s deed trully pricky and offensive, our big ego that feels hurt by another’s person’s self-assertion and expression. Who is this enemy that you trully should’nt love ? Is it a creature or a thing outside thine own creation? Can you see an enemy, except you first formulate this enemy and then look upon the object of your own conception? whats inside of you I ask? What is it that harms you that resides outside of you?

The wisdom that lay beneath Jesus demand of loving the unlovable is therefore revealed. That If you wish to punish your enemy, you should make him or her hate somebody.For when you hate you suffer. In this context, raise your vibrations to a higher dimension; actively love your enemies even more but ensure you passively eliminate the anger and fear from your own heart by wishing them well while still opposing them.You will be detached from the low vibrations and you will therefore not get hurt by something not attached to you.

It means finding ways of doing good to them, while simultaneously holding unattached love in your consciousness completely without rancor or judgment, and while also resisting the injustice they represent. This way, who wins? In the battle of love and hate, there are no winners or losers, just pure vibrations of beings existing at the dimension they belong to.

I remember this young boy during the presidential campaigns; he stood still planted a gaze on president Obama and asked, “Why do people hate you?” Would it have been a beautiful spectacle if the president’s response went something like, ”well, little son, i dont know why you think people hate me, because I only feel loved. Everywhere I go I see love and feel really loved and blessed than any other time i can remember son! Now go get some good grades, my government is here to support you and to listen to you at all times. Thanks for the question son”.
I think that’s real turning of the other cheek; and the result, the eater becomes the eaten. Perhaps better still would have been for Jesus to announce, hey y’all! I know those suckers are your enemies, which is cool with me. I don’t expect it to be easy goal as y’all human and frail of wisdom sometimes, you all suckers for pride, anger, ego, misjudgment, misinterpretation, misunderstanding, mistake, and all the other foibles and associated crap humans are subject to; but hey I have been around and I know what works really good, trust me on this one; Loving your enemies is as good as speaking the truth. Get behind being too egoistic, bless them and shame the devil that may as well be a resident inside of y’all. Trully I say unto you, all that love heaped onto thy enemies bossoms, you will have shot them for your own good. So why y’all not shoot your enemies with Harriet’s Hubman gun? I mean, Kill them with kindness, damn suckers!

Harriet Hubman made nineteen trips as a “conductor”, risking her life every time, and successfully freed about 300 slaves. She carried a gun and threatened any slave who wanted to turn back.
Yes, kill them with kindness. Silence the damn suckers with kindness. Heap hot coals on dem haters; why? Here’s a “selfish” reason. It’s for our own good.

Hugs to all of you, especially the enemy within me, I salute you.

Wambo

Alice Kariuki Take Away inspirational views

Abundance – scarcity can be a state of mind at times. The universe is abundant with contenment and resources enough for all of us. Lets share and shower in it. Read my story on on I almost did not go to school…..

Cooperation – is the best way to build and conduct a life. who lives alone and survives? Look at the ecosystem and take home a tip.

Leadership – true leaders are ones that serve not their ego but the greater good. For society, those they love and the entire planet. they should be soldiers who enlist to fight a battle whose outcome they have a stake in.

Pursuit of Happen-ness – not happiness – is the art of responding to life as it unfolds now from a place of strength and balance.

Values – achieve your business and personal success while retaining wholesome values. greed is no longer the creed.

Environment – nature is not separated from us – we are all one. time to act as one now.

Empowerment – connect to your innate power, feel worthy, able and ready to fully engage in life as it unfolds.



Acceptance – learn to be agreeable with the present as it is now while working towards a future that is your to shape.



Perception – be the change you want to see in the world, change the world by expanding your awareness and perception.



Adversity – challenging times are not a choice but an opportunity to rise. a victim or a hero – it is your choice.



Survival – your uniqueness is not a weakness but the core of your strength. shine your gifts and thrive.



Change – learn the elegant principals of flow rather than futile clinging to the familiar.



Fear – look fear in the eye – walks towards it for if you turn your back you will never cease running.

What opium was son of man on? love your haters? traitors? betrayers?

While he was at table in his house, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat with Jesus, the simple teacher from Galilee and his entourage, the disciples. The Pharisees saw and were perplexed, and they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors, beggars and sinners?” He heard this and said, “Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. Now get the heck out outta here and go learn the meaning of the words.

A Dialogue...the lamb lays down with the lion.

As the world shrinks in size due to technology. We cannot close our eyes and assume it’s not happening. Here is the big question; is it coincidence that technology is growing that fast? Is the universe trying to silently unite us through technology so we can solve our “beef ” with each other? Is it coincidence that the world is becoming much smaller and much inter-dependent? I do not think there are coincidents in life, but this is only a one woman opinion......