Justine is on mission in Senegal.

Last Sunday, after flying paper airplanes with Xadim and his brothers and praying the rosary on the rooftop, we decided to go visit our neighbors in the apartments across the road, to deliver Easter cards and a bit of joy. We put on our masks (which have become mandatory in the streets), I grabbed the guitar and we made up a little song with the help of Eva next door. “Namm naa leen, sunyuy xarit! We miss you, our friends!”

Then, like Christmas carolers or a band of troubadours, we climbed the steps to the first apartment. Gathered in the dim hallway, we knocked on the dark wooden door. Sandra opened and we began to sing, enough times for her to join in at the end. We all laughed together, a sudden freedom, a moment shared after such long separation.

We knocked on a dozen doors, sang our song until my fingers were red from the strings. We kept on our masks, we stood in the hallway. Each time, there was the same overflowing, like no one could smile enough. Love continues to grow, even in the dark, even at a distance.