My refugee family is Bhutanese and Buddhist. From the second day I met them, the family showed me how important their faith was to them. We prayed together in front of their small altar in the bedroom and we talked about their temple in Nepal. Since they had been in Chicago though, they had not been to a temple. For a few weeks, I tried to search for a Nepalese or Bhutanese temple in Chicago online for the family, but none came up. The only temple I had been to in Chicago was a Vietnamese temple on Wilson. I asked my family would it be okay for them to temple that was not Nepalese or Bhutanese. The eldest daughter said wisely though, “All one God” (or Buddah, depending on how you think about it). And so, today, I came by and took the family to the temple on Wilson. At the temple, we approached the various altars, prayed, and listened to a short ceremony. On the way back home, I asked them if the temple was different from their old temple and was surprised to hear that that they thought it was “The same.” I think today’s outing was a success and the family seemed genuinely happy about the trip to the temple, even the mother who gets terrible motion sickness on trains and buses. I made sure the family knew that they were welcome at the temple at all times and that there were ceremonies followed by free vegetarian meals every Sunday. I hope to take the family back some time in the future. For our next visit though, the family requested that I help lead them to Target for some winter supplies.