To the ones that made me feel like home for five days straight, that made me promise to never change who I am, that loved my sense of humour, that have golden and open hearts, that warmly welcomed us, that cook super well, that encouraged me to serve, that are bold in their faith, that were our second or third mothers to us, that have a height I look up to, that can sing, draw, and be talented like no one else, that are soft in their manners like doves, that are funnier than America’s best comedians, that share a passion for books, that are little innocent geniuses, that have the best semi-broken Arabic, that know how to read Arabic and Coptic (props to youuuuu), that are wannabe Montrealers, and that are amazing travelling companions… this article is for you.
Last week, I embarked on a short spiritual trip. I had no idea, not even the slightest clue on what to expect. No one told me what we were going to do, nor what to expect from a week at a monastery. I didn’t even know who from church was going to the trip. And you know what? Not knowing anything led to the best surprise ever.