Category Archives: Guest Post

letting go of what isn’t mine

Olivia_1As a lover of all things creative and a pursuer of a life towards spontaneity, I have always preferred a loose realm of routine. When you look at me you might see a quiet and reserved person; one who enjoys behind the scenes rather than the spotlight. I have learned many life-lessons in my short 24 years, but some of the most significant are the ones I’ve learned in the most recent chapters of my life.

Through each chapter, at some point I fooled myself into thinking I was stronger than I really was. I allowed myself to be deceived and directed, by my perception of how things “ought to be.”

From my family moving across the world, to three family weddings within six months, to my own move cross-country, I’ve had a roller coaster of emotions constantly flooding through me. I’ve always thought I was strong. Convinced I could handle anything…well, at least that’s what I thought. I’m not exactly sure when, but I know there were several points in my life when that lack of reality hit me square in the face.

Maybe it was that final hug from my dad when I thought my heart might just shatter waiting at the airport security border. Or maybe it was when the speed of my life ran at 100 mph…I was a full-time college student and working three jobs as three car accidents crossed my path. Maybe it was the moment when I realized my mom was a million miles away (maybe not a million, but Africa…well, it might as well of been) and she wouldn’t be there to help me pick out my wedding dress and rhapsodize over wedding plans.

Through each of these events in my life, I could feel my emotions suffocating me. I slowly began to see that I wore a veil of deception. I deceived myself into believing I could go through each of these life-changing events unmarked. I was a fraud. I put on my strong face to show everyone that I was okay. I told people that I was strong and that my family moving across the world didn’t affect me that much. I would never let my emotions cloud my rational judgment. But I was keeping a little secret; I was broken and crumbling inside.

I’ve always said, “It’s easier to leave than be left.” Not in the romantic break-up term, but in life in general. The one who is doing the leaving has a new journey ahead of them. They have new people and new sights to look forward to. But the one who is being left has the same surroundings as before, and there is now a huge void gazing back at them. That was me. I felt disoriented and drifting like a lost ship.

Me? The one who could handle anything? I realized that I was broken. I was crumbling. It was through each of these events where I realized my relationship with Christ was failing and I was drifting farther away each day. I began to search the heart of Christ and separate time solely intended for Him. I began to see that on my own it wasn’t going to work.  So, daily I put my life in his hands.

This is not to say I don’t struggle still. I do. Each day brings a new set of obstacles for me to overcome. But my eyes have been opened to the beauty of living in the center of God’s hands.

[blockquote cite=”Isaiah 55:8-9″ type=”center”]“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” [/blockquote]

Looking back I tell myself that I should have known and trusted that God had my best interest in mind. Looking back I think I should have foreseen all of the amazing blessings and surprises that God had in store for me. Hindsight is always 20/20. In the midst of things, we tend to get lost and think short-termed.  We forget that God can see the whole picture. God brings us through these difficulties in life to challenge us, change us, and show us his grace.

[blockquote cite=”Ephesians 3:20″ type=”center”]“Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us…” [/blockquote]

Life continues to change.  I have recently moved to Virginia with my new husband, Anthony. It’s been wonderful watching how God provides all of our needs and many of our wants. After a short visit, my parents and youngest sister returned to Zambia. The goodbyes don’t get any easier. My heart still aches and some days I’m okay with being a puddle. But the understanding and the grace to handle the goodbyes come with each passing day.

I have sacrificed my parents for the cause of Christ. My parents have sacrificed their children for the cause of Christ. No—not in the Abraham and Isaac way. But in the terms of time. Holidays and life’s mile markers are spent apart. Christmas looks a little different each year. The first few holidays the lights didn’t sparkle as much and the snow didn’t glisten…until I am reminded of that thing I am so often forgetting. It is all worth it. Why? Because of the cause of Christ. I’m learning to let go of what isn’t mine.  Because we, and all that we have, is his.

[blockquote cite=”Jeremiah 33:3″ type=”center”]“Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.” [/blockquote]

What challenge you are facing today? What storm do you feel like you are in? Do you think there is a light at the end of the tunnel or do you feel that you are drowning without a life boat? Remember—Christ can see the end. He does have a plan and he can bring you through it. Your faith will be strengthened even more when you learn to trust during the struggle. Your story is hand crafted by the Creator. Don’t grip too tightly onto things and people and plans. You are His masterpiece. Let Him hold your life.

[blockquote cite=”Martin Luther” type=”center”]I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess. [/blockquote]

[custom_headline type=”right” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h4″ accent=”true”]It will be worth it all, Olivia[/custom_headline]

Feature photo attribution: flickr photo by Sebastian Appelt shared under a Creative Commons (BY) license

[content_band style=”color: #fff;” bg_image=”” parallax=”true” border=”all” inner_container=”true”] [custom_headline style=”margin-top: 0; color: #fff;” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h3″]A giveaway from our guest blogger, Olivia![/custom_headline]

Subscribe to our email newsletter between now and Valentine’s Day and be entered to win wall art (see the photo below!) from our guest blogger, Olivia! On mobile scroll to the end of any post to subscribe…On a desktop, subscribe on the right sidebar or in the footer below. OR just click HERE and we’ll do the work for you!

If you’ve already subscribed, enter by tagging a friend under any post on our Facebook wall and encourage them to subscribe – the more the merrier!

Sign up today, and be sure to visit Olivia’s Etsy store – find it HERE!


getting ready to let go

Becky BennettAbout the author: Becky Bennett is the wife of a bearded-hipster-worship-leader and is the mother of three small children, Ava (5), Avianna (3), and Jack (1). Becky was diagnosed with a life-altering nerve disorder called CRPS in October of 2014 and is determined to choose joy in suffering. Originally from Maine, Becky now lives in Webster, NY, where she and her family love being a part of Northridge Church. Becky is a writer, a dancer, a singer, an artist, and a dreamer. Her greatest passion is Jesus. You can follow her journey at


Becky Bennett - AvaThis week, my dear little first-born is heading off to kindergarten. Like so many mommas who have gone before me, I’m transitioning into the place where I have to let go. As she sets her little light-up-sneakered foot onto the soil of her new school, she is stepping into the beginning of a lifetime of choices that will happen outside of my home, outside of my reach. The questions she will have to answer are about to get much more serious than, “Would you like grilled cheese or peanut butter?”

It is in these first few steps that I have to release from my arms the baby who taught me what it meant to labor and to ache but to keep my eyes on hope and on the prize of my pain. In the same way that I had to breathe deeply and walk away from her crib at night, wondering if she would keep on breathing when I did, I have to let go of the fear of what might happen to her when my eyes aren’t on her. I would suffer anything if it meant that she didn’t have to experience pain. But I can’t do that for her. I cannot choose the trials that she will have to face.

Becky BennettIt’s been three decades since my own mom set out on this journey with me — the journey of letting go. I wonder what was it like for my mom when she stood on the other end of the phone line while my husband told her, from the hospital, that our life was going to change forever because I had just been diagnosed with a disease with no cure. In that very moment, she was in another hospital hundreds of miles away, where my dad was having surgery for cancer. I wonder how many times her stomach turned I wonder what her grief must have felt like.  A mom — having to let go.

wheelchair-2For all of the years that she spent lovingly preparing me for possible decisions and potential scenarios, my mom couldn’t choose my next steps for me as I faced loss after debilitating loss. She couldn’t give me back my legs when they were pulled out from underneath me, and my dancer-mobility was replaced with a wheelchair and a hopeful pair of crutches. She couldn’t be close enough in proximity, because of my dad’s condition at the time, to help care for her three small grandchildren whose momma had just been bound to a bed. She couldn’t be there to try to coax my youngest into taking a bottle — my baby, who, at the time, was only nine months old and had just lost his only-known food supply because of the medications I now had to take. She couldn’t be there to make us dinner. She couldn’t be there to tie my shoes. She couldn’t wish away my tears. She couldn’t take away my pain.She was helpless to help me, her little girl, in any way other than to pray. And pray, she did. She cast me into the arms of the One who cares for me more deeply than even she. And care, He did.

Becky BennettAnd I was ready for it. I was up for the challenge, resolved not to give in or to let it get me down. I chose joy in the suffering. I chose hope underneath heavy despair. In large part, I was able to make those choices because my mom had spent her life modeling the strength and mercy and joy and hope of Jesus for me.

When I think about letting go, when I think about releasing my daughter into a world of choices and inevitable suffering, I have another choice of my own to make. Will I trust God with her life? Will I believe Him, not just for myself, but for my child, when He says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance,” (James 1:2-3)?

I pray for good friends, kind teachers, and strong mentors to fill the years that are to come for my daughter. I pray that they would draw her towards Christ, rather than away from Him. I am reminded, however, that so often it has been through the least friendly “friends,” through the most difficult teachers, and through the greatest weaknesses in my mentors that I have learned the most about what God’s faithfulness and never-ending love and true wisdom really look like. I pray for a smooth journey and for success for my daughter. I know, though, that it has been on the bumpiest terrain and in some of the most devastating failures that the darkest places in my own heart have been revealed and that I have been healed. Trying times have been the very instruments of my maturity and my ability to press on through further trials. And those trials have been the very influences that cause me to cling more tightly to my Savior.

So, I will cast my cares on Him. I will entrust my child to the tenderhearted God of the most intimate and gracious and life-giving love. To the One who is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18) and binds up their wounds. As my mind reels with urgency, wondering if I’ve missed something in these years that flew by so quickly, I’m comforted in knowing that my five-year-old does not have to be prepared, right now, for everything she will ever face. She only needs to be ready for today. I will pray her through each moment that I cannot be a part of, and I will be waiting with open arms when she comes running back home at the end of the day.

Beck BennettI will rest knowing that no matter what choices or challenges lie ahead for this little girl, she has already made the most important one that she will ever make: to give her life to Jesus. He will always be with her. He will carry her. He will never let her go. “God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day,” (Psalm 46:5).

This beautiful little person didn’t come into the world just to fill my arms. She came to fulfill a destiny. She’s walking out the door. She’s ready. And I think that now I’m ready, too.



[content_band style=”color: #fff;” bg_image=”” parallax=”true” border=”all” inner_container=”true”] [custom_headline style=”margin-top: 0; color: #fff;” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h3″]FREE Printable from Yellow Sparrow Studio![/custom_headline]


PrintableLowResSubscribe to our email newsletter (click HERE), follow us on Instagram (click HERE), like us on Facebook (click HERE), or share our post on any media…and you’ll receive a FREE printable from Yellow Sparrow Studio!!! This custom piece was created just for Becky’s post, and we are so excited to be able to give it to YOU!!!

If you subscribe, we’ll have all the info we need…but if you follow, like, or share, please email to let us know your email address!!!

Thanks to Yellow Sparrow Studio for the artwork!!!
Feature photo attribution: flickr photo by nick.amoscato shared under a Creative Commons (BY) license

three things that social media steals from us

Kate Foster - guest bloggerThere’s this thief I know. Every day I open my doors, lay out the welcome mat and let him waltz into my home. He doesn’t go for my jewelry, look for my laptop or rummage through my drawers. He goes straight for my mind. He binds me up and takes me hostage. He flaunts his successes and parades his achievements. He isn’t purposefully malicious, but he reminds me of my shortcomings and magnifies my flaws. His source of information always seems to be new and fresh. When the day’s done, he releases me and walks out of my house. I turn off the lights, lock the doors, kiss my husband goodnight, and go to sleep. The next morning I wake up, brew some coffee, unlock my doors, and let that thief do his work again. The cycle continues and I welcome it. The thief is my friend. My choice. My daily companion.

The thief is small, I can carry him with me. All day. EVERYDAY. If I was totally honest, in my heart of hearts, I’d admit I don’t think I could live without him. I’m attached no matter how much he distracts me or how small he makes me feel.

This thief that threatens my joy is named social media.

Don’t get me wrong. I love social media. I love drawing inspiration from other photographers and bloggers on Instagram, seeing birth announcements on Facebook, creating dream houses and wardrobes on Pinterest, and catching up with old friends. We are accessible EVERYWHERE. We have tablets, smart phones, laptops and wifi at almost every restaurant, store and work place. You don’t have to search for it. We are always plugged in. Connected. Peering into the life windows of friends and strangers at just the click of a button. Social media is amazing, but if you’re not careful, it can open the door of your mind to thieves. Thieves that steal things a lot more valuable than appliances or jewels. My iphone has been my teacher lately, and here are three things I’ve seen this thief, left unguarded, steal from me.


Comparison is an acid. It eats away at our self-worth until there’s nothing left. We place ourselves in recliners and press play to the highlight reels of thousands of peoples lives. My feed is full of moms with perfect children, brand new outfits, glorious hair and Pinterest homes. One friend has a husband who surprises her with personalized love notes written in candles nightly, while another always seems to be a step ahead on the corporate ladder. We compare our mundane daily tasks to the live feed of edited and carefully selected photos of the best moments of someone’s life. It’s easy to forget that behind the picture is a life. A person. A person who isn’t untouched by life’s ups and downs. Immersing ourselves into others happiness can set the perfect arena for wallowing in self pity if we aren’t vigilant. Don’t compare someone’s chapter 10 to your chapter 1. Count your blessings instead. The Lord’s mercies are new each morning.


the thief we call social mediaI’m always connected. How many memories, opportunities, and hours have I wasted? Forever gone. I’m embarrassed to even try to calculate it. These are waters I’m still learning to navigate. Time is precious, and social media isn’t evil…it’s a balance. I have seen blogs help mend broken hearts, stay at home moms start their own thriving small businesses, and my life has personally been saved on a daily basis by Pinterest and its mind blowing archives full of recipes. The resource is invaluable. The important thing is to be all there, WHEREVER you are. Live in the moment. The newsfeed will be there tomorrow, but the moments will not.


Constantly being connected to hundreds of people and subjecting yourselves to their opinions and advice can have positive and negative effects. Living your life on a stage in front of your peers is something new to this generation. We have never been so accessible, so widespread. When we expose ourselves we can expect people to make mistakes, to say things they don’t think through. We open ourselves up to more opportunities to get hurt and to make thoughtless mistakes ourselves. It’s easy to judge our worth and popularity based on how many “likes” we get or how many “followers” we have. Our sense of self worth is tied up in what others think, and when those expectations aren’t met we can get shaken. We doubt ourselves. It’s so easy to get lost in the sea of people and forget whose opinion matters.

Everything in life comes with a warning label. Even the best things come with the possibility of a negative side effect. Social media is everywhere. We can’t ignore it or run from it. I choose to embrace it. I embrace it knowing its ups and downs. The thief can lose his power over me when I gain an understanding of how he works. I have to know myself. Set guidelines and ask for accountability. This week I had too much. I was feeling inadequate and struggling with my thoughts. I finally just handed my phone to my husband and told him to hide it. I know myself, and know what things trigger me. I am responsible for me and have to know how guard myself. So what are a few things I can do to keep this thief from stealing?

Use social media as a platform for good.

Encourage one another, cheer each other on. You never know who is watching. Make your wall your ministry. Hide friends who focus on negative controversial articles. Choose friends who share truth and speak encouragement over your life. BE ALL THERE. Wherever you are. If you feel yourself getting bogged down, UNPLUG. Put your phone away. Grab a book. Take a walk. In the pages of the Bible, remind yourself who you are and what God thinks you are worth.

I have a journal I keep for when I need a boost. Hope. I call it “Letters from Abba.” Using Scripture, I write notes to myself straight from the heart of my Father. I’d like to share this one with you based on Psalms 42.

My daughter,
Look to me. Sit at my feet. Let me sing over you the song of my goodness. Don’t forget My faithfulness to you throughout your whole life. My protection, guidance, deliverance, blessings; all of it. Your soul thirsts for Me. Good. Seek me. I am here. I haven’t wandered off. When the waves and billows compass you, HOPE IN ME. Quiet your noisy soul. I am in the rain, the fog, the waves, the noise. Hold out your hand and walk towards my voice. I’ve got you. I love you. It is only in Me you can find your worth.Your title and accomplishments don’t matter. Your value comes from the fact that I want you. It has nothing to do with you or what you do. It’s all about Me. Your heart is worth My blood, My life. Don’t let others play with it or abuse it. Guard it. Protect it. I spent my last breath on it. You are loved. You are worth it. You are Mine.

Social media is a subject that isn’t new. It isn’t some break through, but it’s where I find myself now. These past few weeks I have been reminded that I have control over who I allow into my mind. I don’t want this thief to be allowed to steal my joy, time and confidence. I want to use this gift to be a blessing to others, and I hope you do too. Never forget, you are more than just a screen name.
[custom_headline type=”right” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h4″ accent=”true”]@katelynjoyfoster[/custom_headline]

Kate Foster is 23 from Rochester, NY and recently moved to Athens, MI. She is a lover of Jesus, her husband Ethan and dark chocolate. She dabbles in many things but enjoys crafting, decorating, and photography. Visit  Foster Happiness, Kate’s Etsy shop, and Kate Foster Photography to see some of her work!  Also visit her Jamberry site!

[content_band style=”color: #fff;” bg_image=”” parallax=”true” border=”all” inner_container=”true”] [custom_headline style=”margin-top: 0; color: #fff;” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h3″]A giveaway from our guest blogger, Kate![/custom_headline]

Subscribe to our email newsletter during the month of June and be entered to win a basket full of gifts from our guest blogger, Kate! On mobile scroll to the end of any post to subscribe…On a desktop, subscribe on the right sidebar or in the footer below. OR just click HERE and we’ll do the work for you!

If you’ve already subscribed, enter by tagging a friend under any post on our Facebook wall and encourage them to subscribe – the more the merrier!

giftbasketkateKate’s gift basket includes a Foster Happiness designed coffee mug, gift tags and a framed Bible verse. There is also 1 set of Jamberry nail wraps, manicure set, a Zambian wall hanging, and coffee and candle donated from Cafe Macchiato in Spencerport, NY!

Sign up today!


a lesson learned in the dust

FullSizeRenderWhen you look at me you see an introverted brunette. A lover of antiques, photography, strong coffee, and my totally amazing farming husband. A little deeper though, overflowing the capacity of my heart, is a place. A people. An experience that forever altered my view of the world, beauty, and life.

I was born into a family of 2nd generation Christians. I grew up in church. The Bible was fed to me by day and played on my tape recorder by night. At the age of 4 I asked God to forgive me for pinching my sisters and taking short cuts on my chores, and God forgave me of my sins. As I grew up, I grew away from what I had always been taught. I didn’t run away, start drugs, or live immorally, but I began to doubt the reality of my faith. I began to struggle with cynicism and bitterness; I wandered and pretended for years. During my senior year God used Psalm 139 to grip and destroy my hardened heart. Little did I know that God was forming those “ashes” into the stage from which He could begin His work.

The following May found me on a plane bound for adventure. I tried to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see, but no amount of self-coaching could have taught my heart these new emotions I was about to experience. When our plane finally landed, this place was no longer just an outline on a map. It was real, and about to wreck my heart forever.

[custom_headline type=”center” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h4″]It was ZAMBIA.[/custom_headline]

I wish I could tell you the exact moment it happened. My new point of view came together in pieces. A mosaic. Feelings of helplessness, giggling dark skinned babies, and broken particles of my old calloused heart are what make up this work of art that God has put together. I want to share with you one pivotal moment that my mind will forever have bookmarked.

389211_402422273135262_2120319288_nI will never forget their faces. Scratch that. I can never forget their faces. Plans had been interrupted for that day for my team, and we stopped at a daytime “home” for abused children. God doesn’t make mistakes. I know for certain this “interruption” was orchestrated by God Himself. There were probably 40 souls present. All of these precious children came to this home for love, support and protection during the day and then had to return to their abusive homes at night. My heart screamed out knowing that these little ones would have to leave the safety of this place in just a few short hours to endure the horrors of “Hell” for yet another night. When we emerged from the bus, swarms of dirty, unkept children greeted us. One by one each child approached, shook our hands and curtseyed at our feet. What a humbling moment as these “untouchables” paid such respect to us who had never known hunger. Us who had secure and loving homes, stable upbringings, and every felt need provided for. My heart ached as I longed to grab their tiny hands, and show these bleeding souls who really deserved the recognition. Who the real brave ones were. We sang a few songs and tried to make them smile; but these children were serious. The nights of abuse etched deeply on their faces. I wanted to come in, snap my fingers and rescue every one of them from these horrors. The helplessness was suffocating. When our time was up, we walked back to the bus, shrouded by children who had given us all their love and trust. My thoughts ran wild and untamed. Outside my window was a little boy looking especially alone. He reminded me of my cousin Lincoln who was 3 at the time. Just then, like a bolt of lightning, the thought raced through my mind.

[custom_headline type=”center” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h4″]“What if that was Lincoln out there?”[/custom_headline]

562613_402424019801754_295080829_nThe revelation took my breath away. I sat there willing myself to not glance back into his sad eyes as the bus began to pull away. The kids began chasing after us waving and yelling their goodbyes. I couldn’t hold it back any longer and the tears began to flow. I turned around in my seat and watched as those tiny faces chased us until their legs couldn’t run anymore, and disappeared into the billowing dust. I couldn’t shake that God whispered question from my head. “What if that were Lincoln? What if that was ME?”

Sometimes my weak human mind falters. Has my Father missed this tiny village? Has His omnipresent eyes somehow forgotten to check on these despised children? Why have I never been truly hungry? Why do I have a house with heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer? Why do I belong to a family full of healthy people? How does it seem that the cards have been dealt so desperately unfair? God WHY?

In my weakness, God’s gentle answer revealed His strength. Not one child in a grass hut is unseen, ignored or without purpose. Not one tear falls uncaught. There is not one sleepless night where He is not there cradling their heart. He has them all in the palm of His hands and their names on His tongue.

My heart has been broken and rebuilt by dedicated bush pastors, cheerful blind villagers, brave malnourished children, and the prayers of weak lepers. It’s only by God’s grace I was born where I was. It’s easy to ask God “WHY”, but it’s not so easy when He asks that question back to us. The Bible reminds us in Luke 12:48 “to whom much is given, much is required.” God has redeemed us to be His hands and feet. What an honor!

God doesn’t have to bring us to Africa to make a difference in this world. My story is deeply entwined in Zambia’s grass huts in the same way that others are rooted in a personal tragedy or Vacation Bible School. Every story is unique. Hand crafted. The key is, what are we doing with those God orchestrated events? It doesn’t have to be big to make an impact. In fact, all through Scripture we see that God specializes in the small and mundane. He simply calls us to act. Share a smile with the cashier at the grocery store, leave change and a Bible verse for the next person to come to the laundry mat, invest in the child who can’t fit in at school, visit the lonely widow in the nursing home. No act is too small that God can’t use it in mind blowing ways. He just calls us to plant the seeds. He will take care of the watering.

This introverted doubter flew to Zambia to change lives, but left changed instead. My eyes have been opened to the reality of suffering all around me. It’s not just across the ocean – it’s here even in our own neighborhoods. May we strive to make our corners of the world better places.

[custom_headline type=”right” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h4″ accent=”true”]For the sake of the world, Kate[/custom_headline]

Kate Foster is 23 from Rochester, NY and recently moved to Athens, MI. She is a lover of Jesus, her husband Ethan and dark chocolate. She dabbles in many things but enjoys crafting, decorating, and photography. You can browse her work at

[content_band style=”color: #fff;” bg_image=”” parallax=”true” border=”all” inner_container=”true”] [custom_headline style=”margin-top: 0; color: #fff;” level=”h4″ looks_like=”h3″]A new giveaway from our guest blogger, Kate![/custom_headline]

Subscribe to our email newsletter during the month of June and be entered to win a basket full of gifts from our guest blogger, Kate! On mobile scroll to the end of any post to subscribe…On a desktop, subscribe on the right sidebar or in the footer below. OR just use the “Contact Us” tab in the main menu and we’ll do the work for you!

If you’ve already subscribed, tag a friend under a post on our Facebook wall @ and encourage them to subscribe – the more the merrier!

giftbasketkateKate’s gift basket includes Foster Happiness designed coffee mug, gift tags and a framed Bible verse. There is also 1 set of Jamberry nail wraps, manicure set, a Zambian wall hanging, and coffee and candle donated from Cafe Macchiato in Spencerport, NY!

Sign up today!