Hamido Mohamed with Khadija Awes, 15- years- old; and Mohamud Osman (9). Kind gestures are a universal language when two people don't speak the same language.

I was reminded of this lesson when Dr. Garane Garane introduced me to several Somali refugees in July. Garane is the refugee coordinator for S.C.'s Office of Refugee Resettlement. Hamido Mohamed and her three children came to S.C. about five years ago to escape the threat that Somalia's civil war posed to their livelihood. Somalia has been torn apart since 1991 by clans fighting for power.

The children speak English fluently, while Mohamed knows several words and phrases—not enough to confidently tell me the story, so Garane translated for us.

Mohamed brought her family from Kamtire, Somalia to Dadabe, a refugee camp in northern Kenya. She then took an exam for refugees, and the U.N. arranged for the family to move to S.C. Mohamed's children are Khadija Awes (15- year- old, female), Ikra Mohamed (13, F), and Mohamud Osman (nine, M).

Mohamed said she likes living in the U.S. because the country is giving her children a chance. The children are attending Richland Northeast High, Dent Middle School, and Forest Lake Elementary School without the constant threat of gunfire. And people are there to help the family at every turn. "I never thought people would welcome me so much," she said.

Ikra Mohamed (13) Garane was among the first to welcome Mohamed. He and his wife, Jean taught her how to drive, a lesson unheard of in Somalia where women aren't allowed to drive. The fear is " Driving empowers them," said Garane.

Safiyah Fareed, from Columbia, is another who welcomed Mohamed's family. She helped them adjust to S.C. in 2005 through a six- month sponsorship by the Lutheran Family Services. Among the organization's services at the Columbia chapter is assistance to refugees with basic needs like obtaining citizenship and housing. But Fareed volunteered beyond the six- month commitment. She helped Mohamed prepare for her housekeeping job at Embassy Suites in Columbia, helped the family learn to read some English, and took the children to the dentist. "If I went to another country, I would want people to help me," said Fareed.

Just as many people in Mohamed's path have welcomed her and her family, so does she welcome guests into her home with a gesture familiar to Southerners— tea. But this tea is a hot tea called Shah. It's a creamy, chai- like drink with sugar and cardamom. Ikra brought us a couple of mugs of tea while Mohamed explained to us her family's experiences with our culture.

During our visit, Khadija was on a school trip to Washington, D.C. that Garane said Mohamed didn't want her to take. A Sunni Muslim woman, Mohamed and her daughters wear traditional Muslim dress. Garane said most Muslim families insist on their children wearing traditional dress. But this can be challenging because children at school will sometimes tease them, he said.

Mohamed knows Western culture will influence her children on some level. "I will not lose my culture, but the kids will," said Mohamed. But while they are at home, the children must follow the laws of the land from back home, she said.

While we talked, a recorded Somali program was on television. Garane explained it's like our late- night shows. It's for a new generation of Somali immigrants, he said, because it mixes American slang with Somali culture and language. The host is Margiyo Hun, which means "the bad throat."

A song about the hardships of living in Somalia came on the program. And Mohamud sang along. "Why are they only talking about pirates," sang the woman on T.V. Mohamed also wants people to know more about Somalia than the problems with pirates.

Mohamed has seen innocent people raped and killed in her country. And she doesn't know when she will be able to return home safely. But her philosophy is this—"everything is in the hands of God."