As my eyes, still adjusted to the mid-summer daylight, attempted to find shape and form within the dimly-lit cylindrical mud-based structure, I was led by the hands of eager children to where a silent statue of a woman rested upon a hand-carved wooden stool. I knelt beside her in a combined emotional display of respect and humility, and as if I was being handed an antique, historical relic of unsurpassed worth and beauty, I gently grasped her outstretched hand and shared a brief embrace which still remains tender and sincere years later. Encountering history, I had a tremendous conversation in which words were entirely absent. Instead, I became a voluntary, captive audience of one, listening to the story spoken and history presented by every line and crease on her face, every expression of sadness and joy in her eyes, and the triumphant defiance to the circumstances of the life she was geographically placed into.

Later I would learn that this woman was 114 years old in an age and land where the average life expectancy is 39. Even more staggering was the discovery with the help of a hotel tourism poster that mentioned Ethiopia was on the Julian 13 month calendar, meaning she was actually 124 years old. And in the 124 years of lines, wrinkles, and expressions written on her face was a history book better written than any prized author's attempt. For every line was far better than any adjective or descriptive phrase in telling the story of her culture's history, personal pain and triumph.
In her 124 years, she has witnessed the invasion of Italy and the enslavement of her people. In her 113 years of culture, she has witnessed the installment of Communism which brought the death to many of her people, family, and friends. She saw the presumed savior Haile Selassie re-distribute land which undoubtedly rightfully belonged to her family, and survived many chapters of man-made and natural famine.
No doubt she has seen countless missionary and aide workers just like me come and go with a tremendous bounty of unfulfilled promises, leaving only skepticism for those coming in Love's name. No doubt she has believed at one point the promises of westerners, preachers and doctors of a better life. She has seen the death of many of her children and dreams.
Yet, behind the aged wrinkles sculpted by the circumstances of life, her eyes spoke of the greatest dignity, perseverance, and steadfast will so common in her people. And with that same dignity, this woman of 124 years of challenge slowly rose with the help of children and walked out of her house. Crouched over in a posture granted by time and escorted by an equally aged walking stick, she walked through her village.
It was in these moments of walking side-by-side on the scorched earth with this woman that I truly began to see the power, beauty, elegance, and witness of a steady heart full of hope and patient joy. She had been through more than I could imagine in my darkest dreams, yet still had a subtle joy to her life. She is the defiant tree amidst a hurricane, bending in every way but set to never break. She is the epitome of resilience and a lesson to my own life. Although these troubles may arise, I can still say it is well within my soul. Despite life's difficult situations and seemingly insurmountable armies of grief, with a tender heart and expectant spirit we can overcome not only the odds but also anything else that may come our way.
As you continue to go through difficult situations in a difficult time in your life, remember that the hurricanes of circumstance cause increased strength, durability, and character in every unwavering tree.
Scott Stebner is a Denver-Based wedding and documentary photographer. To view his work and inquire about helping rural villages find clean drinking water in Africa, visit Scott Stebner Photography.