Praise God! And praise Him and praise Him again. Over 20 years ago when we first went to this village called Yastrebovo in Bulgaria, everything was desolate, poor, no school, no church, no clean water, no decent housing. Today, all of the above needs, through the grace of God and His people, have been met. Still no school but another miracle. A bus comes in every morning and picks up all the children to take them to school in the next town over. Most of the original children, now teenagers, have finished high school and found jobs that can provide them their daily needs.
The hardest part of these days is the drive away from the village— we can drive away in our safe cars, to our clean homes, with four solid walls and a roof over our heads, with a full pantry of food, multiple pairs of clothes, to fresh water, supportive parents… the list goes on. It breaks my heart to see the conditions in which a human can survive— it shouldn’t be this way. Cigarette butts fill the ground, and trash as well— bottles, wrappers, and paper. This is where the children are told to play, this little gazebo is filled with trash. Mere feet away from this gazebo are two large dumpsters, yet the villagers still leave the trash on the ground. My heart breaks, I just want to pick up every little piece of trash and make the space clean and safe for these kids to play. I don’t even know if words can sum up what it was like to be here.
We handed out dresses for the girls and snacks for everyone. The older boys helped pass out snacks as I passed out dresses. Each girl smiled as I offered her a bright-colored dress and tucked it under her arm— her hands were full of the snacks we’d given them, chocolate, crackers, and cookies.
Again, I cannot articulate what it’s like to witness this— you have to see it, and you need to let it move you. Here, the kids have a couple of pairs of clothes— maybe. I pray that each dress given to each girl will be worn until she grows too tall for it and then it is passed down to the next girl. I pray that the shoes we’ve sent over stay on their little feet and see hours and hours of games and adventures until the soles are worn. I pray that they have the bare necessities to grow safely.
My eyes, as well as heart, have been opened today by my time in Skopje. I will remember the smiling faces of these kids, excited to talk to us in broken English and the silent language of gestures and smiles. I hope to return for longer next time. The hardest part of the day is the drive away— praying and praying that a couple of hours spent with these kids was enough to share the radical love of Christ with them.
-Annette
The Village of Saraj, on the western outskirts of Skopje, North Macedonia
New dress!
Snacks after story time— older boys love to help
The kids listening to Florence give the Bible story for the day.
Hello, this is Annette Gustafsson, Vula’s great niece. I’m spending a portion of my summer in Greece with my Thia Vula. The following is an entry from my journal.
This trip inspires me. We’re in the village of Yastrebovo, Bulgaria. We drove on the dirt roads around the village to see the residents’ homes, it made me tear up. These kids don’t own much and this isn’t even the poorest area. It forces me to acknowledge the surplus we have in the States. In Yastrebovo, where the Ministry built houses after a flooding, the houses are modest, about nine hundred square feet per home. The rest of the old houses are half that size. Their yards are not much larger but filled with plants for produce. Every inch of the yard is dedicated to producing life-sustaining necessities. Small corners of the yard house chickens and sheep. They do a lot with a little and we do a little with a lot.
I’m trying to figure out how to articulate what I’m seeing and feeling. I’m noting what pieces I want to take home with me. My sister, Lizzie, and I are noticing we don’t need a lot to be happy. God, nature, people, and some food for today is enough.
It’s a different pace of life out here. I don’t want to idealize it because these kids are struggling and I don’t want to make it sound like their poverty is good or beneficial, I’m seeing what I can learn from them and what lessons I can take home.
Yesterday, after we sang to the kids and as we cleaned the church, a girl came up to me and just hugged me; she was no more than twelve years old. She didn’t say a word, just hugged me. It is both a beautiful thing, the unspoken language of love, and also so sad— I wish I could’ve heard her story or asked her what I could do for her, but our languages stood between our conversation. Instead, a hug would have to be our form of conversation.
relaxing after a long game of volleyball
braiding Vanessa’s hair
With deep gratitude for God’s grace, I safely arrived in Greece on a serene Saturday. Eager to embrace my spiritual roots, I set out to attend a church service the very next day in a quaint town called Sevasti. The small congregation there holds a special place in my heart, as it traces its origins back to 1923 when my people sought refuge in Greece after being displaced from Turkey.
My uncle, Pavlos, played a pivotal role in the spiritual life of this town. As a little girl, I vividly remember accompanying him on his evangelistic journeys. He was my source of inspiration, a true Christian hero. To this day, his unwavering dedication continues to shape my faith. I am forever grateful to God for placing the desire to love and serve Him in my heart from such a tender age.
During my visit, I had the joy of making two delightful friends, both little girls. Their innocent spirits and genuine friendship added immeasurable blessings to my time in Sevasti. The warmth and love shared within this tight-knit community were a testament to the profound impact faith can have on fostering connections and nurturing genuine relationships.
As I reflect on my journey, I cannot help but praise God for the remarkable experiences I encountered in Sevasti. The history, the faith, and the fellowship all intertwined to create a powerful tapestry of God’s grace. My heart overflows with gratitude for the opportunity to reconnect with my spiritual heritage and to forge new friendships along the way.
May the blessings of God continue to touch the lives of all who read this, and may His grace guide us on our own unique journeys.
-Vula
