At home in Morocco

Tirzah DiGennaro and her husband Chadwick have come to love and serve the land and the people of Morroco.

Rural Morocco and rural Missouri are not so very different. I grew up on One Step Farm, a small pastured poultry farm on C highway. We had an outhouse, we raised our own milk, eggs, meat, and vegetables, I could drive a tractor before I could drive a car, and in the summer we watched the sky, searching for signs of rain.

For the first two months of our two and a half years in Morocco as Peace Corps volunteers, my husband and I lived with a host family in a tiny village way up in the mountains while we studied Arabic. The olive oil and honey we dipped our bread in every day came from their own trees and bee hives, the rugs on the floor were made from wool from their own sheep, the figs, apricots, apples, plums and cherries were all from their orchard. And whenever it rains, everyone says, “Hamdulillah,” or “Praise God,” because just like in Missouri, rain brings life.