gray area: our 2024 year-end letter
Dear Friends-
Happy New Year! This November marked eleven years since we met the girls. That first trip was in 2013: one US dollar was the equivalent of two Ghanaian cedis. Now one dollar amounts to fourteen cedis. The economy has its ups and downs, much like ours in the United States, and I am astonished by how much Ghana changes between visits. More skyscrapers, four-star hotels, and (most importantly) a Pizza Hut. Of course, the biggest transformation is within the walls of the Yellow House: as of next month (January 2025), we will have EIGHT HIGH SCHOOLERS. They are all doing well. Flourishing in school, not only academically but socially. They are on their way to adulthood, and we are entering the final years of fundraising.
According to UNICEF, only about 34% of Ghanaian women graduate from high school. Only 6% obtain a bachelor’s degree. We intend to raise $80,000 over the next few years for eight college educations.
Education is the default I fall back on when someone asks how Eight Oaks is going. Because education is important and often an indicator of so many other things. But it’s not the end-all. The end-all is true freedom, which Henri Nouwen says is “anchored in claiming your belovedness.” Apologies if you are hearing me reference this quote for the millionth time, but I can’t help it. It comes from a paper Nouwen wrote called “Moving from solitude to community to ministry.” You can find it here if you’re so inclined. I reread it today, and this is what stuck out this time around:
“In this crazy world, there's an enormous distinction between good times and bad, between sorrow and joy. But in the eyes of God, they're never separated. Where there is pain, there is healing. Where there is mourning, there is dancing. Where there is poverty, there is the kingdom.”
I think some places are more able to cast a dividing line between sorrow and joy. At the Yellow House, that boundary is razor-thin. Here is Lucky, talking on the phone to her mother (sorrow). Here is God’s Way, sprawled on the couch reading a novel (joy). Here is our security guard, coming to work after his child died from appendicitis (sorrow). Here is Sarah Sr., dancing in the courtyard (joy). The pain is too pervasive to compartmentalize, so it all bleeds together.
This is something I’ve come to believe about giving: it moves us closer to that middle line, that space between joy and sorrow, when we empty ourselves. And those who receive are pulled towards us. Our fingers touch. Heaven comes to earth: Emmanuel-God with us, in the gray area.
Thank you for the donations, the prayers, the offering of time and talents, and for asking about how the girls are doing when we see you. We are hoping you spend holy time dwelling in both sorrow and joy this holiday season, and wishing you a Happy New Year on behalf of everyone at the Yellow House-
Ted & Ellie Kriwiel
Founders
Regina, Sarah Jr., Lucky, God’s Way, Gloria, Dina, Sarah Sr., Richlove