I know that the Lord our God, creator of all things, blessed you with the steep, sloping hillside above the road I walk every afternoon. He also saw fit to bless you with a single cow. Today I saw you fling your scythe at it to chase it further up hill. You did not seem to see me today, but I know that you have seen me. I get the sense that you see everything. I am as much a mystery to you as you are to me and even though I see you everyday, we are likely never to meet. You are East and I, West. You are a woman between the age of 35 and 65. You wear the black of one who has lost a son. Here in Tirana you might wear the black for five to ten years, not like the women of the North who wear black for the rest of their lives when a son dies. Stout and stoic you have carved a place of beauty out of barren ugliness. Although we will not meet, I do profit from your service to this land. Thank you for keeping watch, as you do. You are the embodiment of so much about what there is to love about Albaina.
albaniacalling 