Happy Monday, Wudcha Family,
Presence. A word so simple, yet so rare. In a world where everything seems to happen through screens, algorithms, or hurried schedules, the act of being present with each other has almost become a forgotten art. But here, in the quiet corners of Brewton, I have learned again what it means.
When Robert and I first arrived with little more than faith and a laptop, I carried a heavy question inside me: where do we begin? We had dreams, but we also had doubts, fears, and no clear roadmap. And then something small but powerful happened.
One afternoon, after a yoga class I was teaching, a few people stayed behind. They didn’t rush out, they didn’t look at their phones. They simply sat down with me, with Robert, and they listened. They wanted to know what we were doing, what Wudcha was about. They asked questions, not out of curiosity alone, but out of care. And in that moment, presence turned into connection.
What followed still amazes me. These neighbors, with nothing to gain, offered us something priceless: their time, their ears, their trust. They gave us contacts, phone numbers, introductions to people who, just like them, loved this community and wanted to make it better. They showed us that change doesn’t always start with grand plans or loud announcements. Sometimes, it begins with a handful of people who choose to sit together, listen, and act.
I realized then that presence is the soil where all growth begins. Without it, seeds dry out before they can take root. With it, communities flourish.
The more we opened ourselves, the more others opened too. It was like a circle that kept expanding. When we volunteered with Kiwanis to support children in our community, we felt that same circle of presence again. Local businesses and ordinary people showed up, not just for the cause but for each other. We supported their events: karaoke nights, small fundraisers, local gatherings, and in return, they supported us. It was never transactional. It was human. One hand washed the other, and together both became clean. That is the essence of community.
And in Brewton, the power of presence has reached even further. In just a week, there will be local municipal elections. Over these months we have met council members and mayors from all political sides, often from competing factions. Yet what has struck us as nothing short of miraculous is this: despite their differences, they have come together in their support of Wudcha. Not because of politics, but because of a shared desire to make life better for the people of Brewton. They have seen in Wudcha a chance to bring jobs to this community, to offer opportunities so that our young people will not feel forced to leave their homes and families in search of a decent salary elsewhere.
This is one of the deepest sorrows we hear every day. Students graduate with talent and potential, yet too often they have to leave Brewton because most local jobs pay around $13 an hour, not enough to buy a home or build a life here. As parents ourselves, with children growing up, we feel this heartbreak personally. We want our kids — and every child of Brewton — to have a reason to stay, to build, to thrive, here in the place they call home.
Presence is not about grand gestures. It’s about stopping long enough to see someone else, to hear them, to say: you matter, your voice matters. And it is in those moments of presence that real solutions emerge, real courage grows, and real change begins.
I often think how impossible this feels in larger cities, where schedules clash, people are guarded, and attention is always elsewhere. And yet, here in Brewton, I’ve seen that presence is still alive. It may be rare, but it is not lost. And if it can happen here, it can happen anywhere.
The power of being present is not just about proximity. It is about intention. It is about choosing to give our time, even when we have little. It is about remembering that the strongest communities are built not on endless resources but on endless willingness to show up.
We are deeply grateful for every person — from neighbors to leaders — who has chosen to sit with us, share their stories, and guide us with their wisdom. Without their presence, Wudcha would still be just an idea. With their presence, it is becoming a movement.
So this week, I want to leave you with this reminder: presence is a gift. Give it freely, receive it humbly, and watch how it transforms everything it touches.
Your voice is your power. Don’t let it vanish.
With love,
Marianna Grillo
Co-Founder, Wudcha