On a crisp fall day, I left New England to begin my first job in microenterprise development. But as soon as I stepped off the airplane, Cambodia’s heavy, humid air reminded me I was thousands of miles from home. In the coming days, the differences between my old and new homes felt stark. While I might have munched on popcorn back home, here colleagues offered small, dried fish snacks. Instead of driving a car, I maneuvered a moped through bustling streets. Rice replaced Rice Krispies for breakfast. And I’ll never forget the first time I was offered a tarantula to eat!
Life in Cambodia seemed worlds apart from the life I’d always known.
After a week meeting colleagues and onboarding, I began traveling to remote villages to better understand their needs. While I enjoyed my role and responsibilities as an internal auditor, sitting down with these families and hearing their stories was the bigger gift. The more I listened, the more I realized that superficial differences can mask core commonalities.
In every home I visited, I consistently heard—and witnessed—the deep love of parents who were eager to provide for their children and give them a better life. They shared their desires to provide consistent meals, build a roof for their home, and send their children to school.
Nine thousand miles from where I grew up—in a very different culture and context—I began to feel the familiarity of home. The bonds of family were remarkably similar. I remembered my own parents’ sacrificial love toward my siblings and me: working to provide for our family, encouraging our dreams and passions, and investing in our spiritual growth.
As I sat with families in northern Cambodia, I began to better understand the animating force behind microenterprise and its success. Time and time again, it came back to family. These mothers and fathers woke before the sun and worked outrageously long hours to launch businesses—and they did it in the hope of giving their children a better life. They beamed with pride as they introduced me to their children and shared their dreams for the next generation. It became so clear to me that day: Microenterprise is about family.
Today, as a dad to four precious children, I know what it means to want to provide for my family, to nurture their God-given dreams, and to see them grow in what matters most.
The love of family is universal. It’s why, despite cultural differences, we feel an immediate connection when we ask about family. It’s why the stories of parents and children across the globe inspire us. It’s why HOPE International invests in the dreams of families.
Recently we got to know Aline Mushimiyimana, a single mother in Rwanda who is working diligently to provide for her daughter, Queen, in a country where 39% of people live below the poverty line. Although women in sub-Saharan Africa face significant obstacles in accessing financial services, education, and employment, Aline was determined to keep dreaming. She says, “The hope I have for [Queen] is that, in the right time, she could get a good education and study well and have everything she needs.”
Here’s to all the mothers and fathers and those around the world, people like Aline, who—in the midst of seemingly insurmountable challenges—have shown us courageous, sacrificial love.
To learn more about Aline and her daughter, Queen, check out HOPE International’s #DreamsForMyDaughter Campaign.
