Daddy and I are in Amsterdam right now. We’ve been to the Anne Frank House (I loooooooove her!), the Van Gogh Museum (my favorite artist), and the Royal Palace; but honestly my favorite part of Holland was flying into the airport and seeing the canals from above—all beautifully laid out like streets. No, wait. My favorite part was seeing everyone biking everywhere—whether in a business suit or a sweat suit. They do everything on their bikes: talk on the phone, read a book, drink coffee.

We stayed here a day longer than we thought we would so that we could see everything, but we head out early tomorrow morning … to spend Christmas in Israel.

Maybe it’s because I’m still so sad about Arway. She was my friend. I don’t even know what to say about it. It hurts too much to say anything.

Here’s a picture of her. Isn’t she beautiful?

We had to wait around forever and it was getting boring, but then a skinny Liberian man stepped out in front of all the benches and loudly cleared his throat. He was wearing a shiny top hat, goofy toy glasses, purple suspenders, and size 20 shoes. A clown. I couldn’t help staring at him, and he winked at me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “what better diversion could there be during a long wait than entertainment?” His jokes were about as funny as a middle-school history teacher’s on a bad day (sorry Mr. Jenkins), but Ben and I howled anyway. A little heat stroke would make anyone delirious.

When the clown finished his performance and carried his hat around for donations, I was devastated to not have any more cash. Most unemployed people around here simply asked for money from others, but this guy wanted to earn his income, to give something back. I admire that. I ended up borrowing from Mrs. VanderHook so I could drop some bills in the clown’s hat. I was glad to see that others were also contributing.

This may sound crazy since I’m a missionary kid, but I don’t think I’ve ever really prayed before today. Have you? I mean, for real? I mean, knowing in your head that God is this great and amazing Creator and then telling him little things that even your best friend doesn’t know. It’s amazing!

Gotta run! So much going on! Love you! Love you!

Africa is amazing. We’re on the west coast, and all the lions and giraffes are a million miles away from here, but it’s still cool. Well, not cool—it’s actually stinking hot—but you know what I mean.

So, here’s what Ben’s house looks like. Imagine that you are a spider on the ceiling looking down—this is what you’d see. Of course, you’d need X-ray vision too. Which would make you a superhero, and you might as well just fly over here and see it for yourself then.

If I could draw a picture of Africa for you, I’d do that too—but I don’t think you’d be able to imagine it even if I were the greatest artist in the world (which clearly I’m not). Ask your mom or dad to take you on a missions trip here. It’s awesome!

ps gramma’s dinner was yummy

Day 10 pizza (done)
Day 9 pizza
Day 8 pizza
Day 7 KFC
Day 6 pizza
Day 5 pizza
Day 4 pizza
Day 3 Taco Bell
Day 2 pizza
Day 1 Grandma’s house
Day 0 airplane food

Once we get home from Liberia we’ll be eating stuffed-crust pizza with extra cheese because we’ll be R-I-C-H. Daddy’s going to do accounting or something boring like that; but I’m going on a … treasure hunt.

I can’t tell you any more. If I did, I’d have to kill you.

Three hours ago—opening night!—I was drawing tears from the audience with my riveting performance as Juliet (”Romeo, what’s here? Poison? Drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? “) when disaster struck: The table holding Joe (a.k.a., Romeo) broke—and Joe grabbed my arm as he fell to the floor, even though he was supposed to be unconscious. We both plunged to the floor … and I heard a crack. I think the entire audience must have heard it. At first I thought it was my tailbone, but it was only Joe’s wrist. Phew.

Anyway, the show went on. Simon took Joe’s place (we were almost done anyway)—but then I spotted something moving in the sacks at the front corner of the stage. I forgot my lines because a second later I saw the school’s missing boa coming straight for me. (No one knew it was missing until then.) Needless to say, I wasn’t very happy. I’d rather plunge a knife into myself than get attacked by a rabid snake.

Of course, I wisely go screaming to the other side of the stage, but the freak Melanie (luv you, Mel!) comes up and socks it. Melanie is a cheerleader. A girl girl. Still, she knocks it flying with her baton. This is not a joke. Then Simon grabs a sack and throws it over the boa. The Mad Scientist (sorry Mr. Langley, but this really was crazy) scoops up the boa with a shovel that was on the set and walks across the stage with it toward the science room.

After all that, guess who got the roses tonight. Yeah. Melanie.

I hate my life.

A) a Catholic nun
B) a former Miss America
C) a hot guy just out of college
D) a bizarre old retired lady
E) Mr. Langely (my current mad scientist teacher)

Click here for the answer … tomorrow. (I’m not allowed to say until then. It’s not for sure for sure. Plus I like keeping you in suspense. heh heh)