I miss the reservation. I miss the familiar drive through the village stopping at well-known houses to pick up kids that I've not seen for a year. I miss their excitement. I miss their childlike playfulness. I miss their hugs. I miss the gleam in Breanna's eyes when she thinks she's about to play a trick on me.
And I miss the sky. There's nothing like laying on your back on the prairie and looking up at the endless expanse of night sky with a billion stars blinking. It might be the most peaceful feeling in the world to let the night breeze blow over you as you watch the stars. Sometimes, if you're really quiet, you can even hear the Indians over in the village singing and beating the drums. It's surreal. It's calming. It's like nothing else I've ever experienced.
I miss to the long talks with friends late at night as we soak in all the goodness of the day. I miss their laughter at the days mishaps. It's amazing how many ridiculous situations you can find yourself in when you travel with a team. I miss their tears too because they are tears of compassion and heartbreak for the people there. It's in those moments that our mission is accomplished because they've came, they've seen and they will never again be the same.
It's not a perfect place. Not by any means. There is poverty, and disease, and violence. Yet there is also a peace and a goodness that is hard to understand. I guess you have to be there ... and I wish I were.