My husband and I have recently moved into a new house. We have moved often in our married life. Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to live in one place for decades - the proverbial “forever home”. I imagine this to be familiar and comforting - like a pair of old slippers and a well-worn bathrobe.

This is a leap year. This odd 29th day in an oddly short month. Our Gregorian calendar records 365 days in a year. This is all good and well, except that it takes the earth 365 days, five hours, 48 minutes, and 56 seconds to make its way around our sun. So, there’s this little bit of time to account for and we make room for these hours every four years.

Zimkhitha is a preschool teacher for the Fountain of Hope preschool in the Western Cape of South Africa. For Zimkhitha it is an emotional experience to see her 6 year old students from last year in their new school uniforms and going to “big” school. She is proud of them. She looks forward to a new beginning each year, meeting the new students and getting to know their personalities. The first few weeks are bumpy as the children tend to cry for their mom when they are dropped off at school. They soon settle, she says, and learn to enjoy each other, their new environment and their lessons. Zimkhitha says that helping little children to love to learn brings her much joy and happiness.

At the bottom of our African garden, beyond the rockery and down the brick steps, there is a spot where nothing will grow, except a very old and very large tree. I have tried all kinds of ground covers, shrubs, and plants but they just refused to thrive. I had mostly given up on that patch and allowed it to be the end of the map where dragons be and no sane person goes.

January is always a very busy month for our team. At Orchard: Africa, we use the last quarter of a year to do our strategic planning, which means that come January, a lot of those plans get implemented. Some church partnerships will roll off our funding cycle this quarter and new partnerships will begin. There is a lot of planning and processing that goes into this cycle.

I was five years old when I saw the fairy. Her light was shining golden in the dark foliage, flickering on and off, on and off. I made myself as small as can be and tip-toed closer so that I could see her face and wings and perhaps even her magical wand. Suddenly, from out of the darkness emerged a dozen more fairies. I turned tail and bolted straight to my mother sitting on the camping chair close to the fire where my dad was making our dinner.

One of the most important parts of growing food at Orchard: Africa is the worms. Long, red, wiggly worms are like gold to us. They eat discarded scraps of leaves and whole foods and turn it into the world’s best organic fertilizer. From the poop (yes, we said it) of hundreds of worms, a “tea” is made. Not for us to drink of course, but to pour into the soil where our vegetables grow. This worm tea is what makes the soil rich in nutrients that the plants absorb and transfer into the food that we grow.

After a year of fighting cancer, my sister passed away one week ago at the time of this writing. She was the older sister of us three girls. She was my mother’s wild child and my father’s freckled child, the one who looked just like him. She was my rock. My person. My older sister who I would follow relentlessly as a child. A huge chunk of who I am has gone away with her.

Every year South Africans celebrate Heritage Day. It is a day to remember our cultural heritage and the diversity that makes up our nation. This year Orchard: Africa sponsored a heritage celebration event in Khayelitsha. We gathered local partner churches and, together, celebrated through dance, music, poetry, and speeches. The dancing and the singing had everyone’s toes tapping and the colorful traditional outfits were inspiring.

I grew up without television. The apartheid government firmly controlled the South African broadcasting company and deemed the “little black box” a threat to their ideology. Television only came into our homes when I was a teenager, which meant that the radio played a vital part of my childhood entertainment. I would rush home after school, grab my snack and camp out on the carpet in our living room to listen to the next installment of The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe. The idea of entering another world through thin veils found in our world fascinated me and listening to the dramatized radio version of the Chronicles of Narnia captured my imagination far more than subsequent film versions ever did.

Ayler Msolo is a natural artist. Growing up, he loved being creative. As he got older, he knew that he needed to work and provide for his family. Ayler came up with a great way of using his creative side to earn a living – being a barber.