I am from moving vans, Dad's inner city Pittsburgh accent, long road trips
I am from peppernuts, bierrocks, and soybean pie.
I am from bubusha, "awwnt" and bienvenidos.
I am from a river under my feet, bread dough between my fingers, and goat manure wafting through the air.
I am from teachers, doctors, and being close to the poverty line.
I am from Russian Mennonites on the Great Trek and Swiss-German bloodlines.
My past is like a beautiful disaster
When I look back
I see the way God made strength from my pain
Gifting me with wisdom and hope
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