On a counter at the Owl Restaurant is a street of freshly created gingerbread houses. Each house on this street is a prize in a raffle to raise proceeds for a local orphanage. The tickets are a dollar per chance.

I am told that you don’t eat the houses, that they remain in a plastic bag in your attic or on garage shelves to use as Christmas decorations for the next 30 years till your surviving children throw them out.

I buy a couple of raffle tickets to support the good cause.

Kids without parents or a house to live in remind me of Ms. Sue’s in Haiti.

Posts about Gingerbread Houses tell me its time to take another trip.

Japan , Madagascar., and Iceland are looking like possibilities but I’m guessing I’ll eventually end up where I’m supposed to be.


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