A "wee" bit of sacrifice never killed anyone, or then again, did it?

There are very few things that would induce me to give up my creature comforts.

For instance, why in the world would I want to give up the roof over my head in exchange for a tent on my back for a period of two weeks? Or the attendant security of knowing that bar any extraordinary circumstances, my door is unlikely to be charged by wild animals. Why would I want to exchange curling up in the evening on my settee with the remote control firmly in my possession (yes, it is I that controls it) mindlessly flipping through TV channels for a night in out in the open, surrounded by pitch darkness with the only source of light coming from distant stars and the glow from a fire lit to keep wild animals away? Or the knowledge that I shall retire to my warm bed with a nice thick mattress and the pillow I am so used to, for the uncertainty as to whether my bed for the night, a threadbare sleeping bag that has to be so in order for me to lug it around for the duration of two weeks, will be dry or wet.

I could actually fill several pages with the comforts I would rather not give up, and still not be done, but I think you get my point. That is why I look at my friend Anne with a mixture of respect and fascination as she prepares to walk for two weeks, through the Rumuruti forest (I am sure some have no idea such a forest exists and I will probably have to tell you all about it at some point) in an attempt to raise funds towards saving this forest and by extension, preserving the water system that depends on it.

I did promise to tell you all about this friend of mine and her quest to make a difference; so this is just the beginning. Hopefully, I will inspire more of us to do whatever little we can towards that worthy cause we have always wanted to support.