The Harvest Run is a journey of food and friendship. Food grown by local farms and folk, loaded with love and carried with care. It is care for new friends, care from new friends, the care that calls us to ReMember Us All. To face the faces of those displaced from the very ground on which we now stand.

We travel to Towaoc not as tourists, but as people willing to turn toward truth: toward the grief wells, the broken-heartedness, the tattered trusts. For to feed is to tend, and to tend is to mend. This is the bounty we are bound to share a promise to return again, to set tables and build beauty.

The Ute Mountain Ute Tribe whose ancestors walked where we now walk, whose homes were here long before ours cautiously welcomes us, weighing the sincerity of our aims. They make a small space in the circle of their community for our gifts to land. It is hard to face the stark disparity between the prosperity of high headwater lands and the harsh edges of the desert.

With broken-hearted hope, we are learning to face the disgrace of colonization with active grace: to remember how to listen, to include all dreams, to trace back the trails that may guide us toward the long work of repair, to reseed all that was lost.

We together are dreaming empty spaces into vibrant places. Healing begins with befriending. Listening becomes responding. And we remember that we are, in fact, Response-Able. While others are torn by the wars of might-makes-right, we ask what it truly means to meet the needs of friends to not turn away from the shadows of our shared history, but to face the faces of those forgotten by the likes of ours.

So in these hours our hours here and now, we stand with open hands and arms filled with goods. We act as if we can, and so we do. We come not to repeat the old scene but to come anew to re-view the seen, and to help make something never before seen: a slow, sure movement beyond race, fueled by grace, free from the pressures that demand we forget the forgotten.