My introduction to coffee occurred at an early age. It was not the taste that drew me in, but, rather, family. Each time I visited my grandparents, I was greeted with this wonderful aroma coming from their kitchen. I never really thought much about the source, but years later I realized it was the smell of a just-brewed pot of coffee. My grandfather would pour coffee into his green thermos each morning before heading to his construction site. Even today, I think of him, and his thermos, before I leave for the office. Despite growing up in a coffee-loving family, I didn’t drink coffee until I was well into adulthood in 2013. Why you may ask, did I decide to take up coffee so late in life? Well, that story involves a great adventure that took me from my home in Arkansas to Virginia, and then my spiritual home, Rwanda.
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