Sitting around the kitchen table, illuminated only by the light of a kerosene lamp burning brilliantly, looking around at the flame-lit faces of the people most dear to me in Honduras, I feel blessed. The blend of black and white faces, blue eyes and sparkling black eyes, and young and old, is a symbol of the transcendence that friendship has over language, race, culture, or tradition.

The candlelight, the atmosphere, the community around the table, brings it full circle. The differences cease to divide us, and the friendship, the heart of the matter, is what will hold us together.