Sparks. Over and over again just sparks. I sat on my makeshift camping chair (a large, fallen branch) for two hours striking that “flint” (a rock I found in the woods) with my steel buffalo striker, rubbing my knuckles raw, and nothing.
Refugees are all over the news—and with good reason. Their harrowing stories of leaving their home, fearing for their lives, losing family members along the way, is truly heart-wrenching. We read a similar tale of people fleeing their home in the Book of Mormon, and it completely changes how I look at our modern refugee.