Community is a powerful thing; a group of people in unity through love for one another. They share not only the material possesions of this world, but themselves too. Each person is accepted regardless of talents, quirks, failures or successes.

Linda had allowed me into her community, I had been with her for just two weeks, but it felt like a lifetime. Her family and given me a home; a bed to sleep in, plentiful food, comfort and shelter, warmth and care. In exchange, I tried to help as much as I could; berry picking (and eating), vegetable picking (and eating), baking (and eating), milk collecting (and drinking) and general farm work. When my time came to an end, Linda and I refused to be seperated. Willing time to slow, she hitch-hiked with me to my fifth destination: Tallin, Estonia. One dodgy, italian camper van and one, air conditioned white van later, we arrived.

There, we stayed in a community house. Fourteen people under one roof, with twenty guests at any one time. We stayed for free in their attic space converted into a large sleeping area and were asked merely to become a member of their community; to behave as if the house was our own, to clean-up after ourselves, maybe cook dinner for everyone and contribute to the smooth running of the household. For the one night Linda was with me, we had a lot of fun. Saying 'goodbye' did not seem real; something within me knew we would meet again. So she returned to her home; I had officially left Latvia behind.

Community is indeed a powerful thing, so when a member leaves it, everyone feels lonely despite beíng surrounded by many. My days in Estonia were a bizarre contrast to Riga; I was not always alone, for I am never really alone. I wandered through the city by day, able to recollect my time so far and consider my time ahead. I would always return to a buzzing household; it was nice to know that at the end of a silent day I would be greeted with an abundance of smiling faces. I left Estonia one rainy morning by boat, the community still sleeping, the city just awakening and I was gone. Another member moving on to pastures new, would my absence be felt?

In Helsinki I was instructed to look out for a man 'of average height with a beard, whiskers and glasses'. Ossian's kind face fitted the description. He and his wife, Marja, welcomed me in Finland. We drove from their city home to their summerhouse; a secluded island with no running water, no roads, no traffic, no people, simply nothingness. Bliss. Their seven and eight year old grandchildren stayed with us for a week, providing a sense of play to the atmosphere. Children's imagination always amazes me; they could play for hours building a wooden construction that to them was a car, but to us was a dodgy platform of uneven planks! Here, I am helping to build a storage space and second biological toilet, or 'organic closet' as Ossian calls it. Work is slow, as we are distracted by sailing trips, sauna sessions and family visits. I feel as though I am on a holiday with my own grandparents; behaving at my best, listening to endless stories from the past patiently and again aiding them in any way I can.

Their community is filled with love and care. A family who is proud of one another and their achievements, always with a tale to tell and so close I feel I know them all, even though I have only met a few. When difficulties arise, I too feel the pinch. It was horrible to hear Marja's recent medical test results. She is dying. The pair are at the hospital now to learn the following course of action. Heartache fills the air, tears in my eyes as well as theirs. It is a comfort though to think she will soon reach the Kingdom and be with our Saviour. She will live forever with him. Dead to this world yes, but always alive in Christ.

I think I am meant to be in these places. I learnt recently that Linda had only been a member of the WWOOF site for three days when I contacted her; Ossian and Marja had been members for a week or so. I truly believe, as I reach each new country, that a hand is guiding my path, a light in the darkness, my eyes when I cannot see. I have fallen into places where I am instantly at home. The people and surroundings become a place of safety and security. I have not once been in fear, but always content. I have only Him to thank. Always with me, however far I travel. A community always with me, in me, a part of me so I am never on my own.