This woman's face will always stick with me.
She personifies the Nepali spirit that came alive in the aftermath of the earthquake.
When I met Gunga, she was slowly lifting beams from her collapsed house, salvaging what she could to rebuild.
There was determination in her eyes and step. She had a family of eight to take care of, and there wasn’t time to reflect or mourn what had happened.
“I was inside and felt the earthquake,” she said. “I covered my head, grabbed my daughter, and ran. All the buildings were shaking.”
All her food was buried, but that didn’t stop Shrestha from inviting me to share a meal. When I refused food, she insisted on a glass of milk.
She sent her daughter for a cup, swept off the pile of bricks that were once her house, spread out a plastic bag for me to sit on, and proceeded to share with a stranger the precious little she had.
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