I am a Mom and a fighter.   A never back down, never stop, never let go, never take no for an answer, warrior for my children.   And now my children include the children at the Napuu School in slums of Nairobi, Kenya.

And in 12 days, I am climbing to help provide an education for these children in hopes of giving them a brighter future.  

Two years ago, resting on a dirty, dusty roadside in a remote village in Uganda, I watch this strikingly beautiful woman tenderly swaddle her baby.  She loving secures her to her back.  It was effortless, she doesn’t struggle, doesn’t look exhausted or frustrated.  I stand frozen in awe as if I was sharing in a private tender moment between the two of them.

She wears her baby like she is a part of her; her life blood, her beloved child.  Just as I would, she keeps her treasure close, tight and protected.  I smile at her, wishing in that single moment I WAS her.  In my mind, she has no worries…it was just her and her precious legacy.

I don’t know this woman and yet I do know her.  She is a warrior Mom.  Her heart’s greatest desire is for her children to have everything they need.  And if necessary, she will fight to protect and provide.

I remember holding my own babies tight and rocking them late into the night, just the two of us.  It didn’t matter if I was exhausted, or hungry and covered in baby goo, snuggling them was the best part of my day.  Actually, the best part of my life.

Taking in the smell of their sweet skin, the firm grip of their little fingers wrapped around mine and the feel of their warm breath rising and falling on my chest was perfect joy.  It was in these moments, I made a vow to my girls, each one of them.  A promise secured.  No matter what life might bring, I would always love them, fight for them, protect and provide for them.

Silently observing this mom, a world away from home and my children, I realize we aren’t really very different from one another.  I motion to my camera as if to ask permission to take her picture. We don’t actually speak but instead she proudly turns her babe towards me so I may get a glimpse of her prized and perfect gift.

Holding back my tears, I attempt to focus my camera lens.  My hands are shaking and my heart aches.  I am so jealous of her.  Jealous of her simple perfect joy and her ability to protect her baby.  I desperately want to go back to the time when I could wrap up my babies and protect them in my arms.  My girls are not babies anymore, it’s impossible to insulate them from all the hard stuff of life.

Loving, protecting and providing for my children is my life’s greatest joy and mission.

Hopefully, I will never feel the heartache of not being able to feed my children.  Never.  Surely, I will never fear the anguish of providing my babies with proper medical care or having clean water for them to drink.  And I certainly will never be plagued with the doubt that they will go to school.   And if you are like me, most likely, you will never have those worries either.

But this mom, she does.  And she is like most Mom’s in Africa.

And so I am climbing a mountain.  Climbing to fight alongside other Mom’s to help them provide for their children.

I realize this is a very a small thing I am doing.  But Mother Teresa said,

Not all of us can do great things.  But we can do small things with great love.

You can too!   Will you help?   I currently at 87% of my fundraising goal