My Words for Haiti

Words just won’t come. For once, perhaps I have nothing to say. For days my emotions have been raw, taking in the suffering that is happening in Haiti. Worry pervades my thoughts. Worry for the moms and dads who can’t find their children; for the children whose parents have died and they’re now orphans; for the leaders who no longer have the tools to lead; for the already desperately poor who now have even less; for the lack of infrastructure (roads, water, communication) and the enormity of how to go about replacing it; and crushing sadness at the massive loss of life.

Paul and I immediately made a gift to Bethesda Evangelical Mission www.bemhaiti.org, run by a Haitian-born pastor who is a friend of ours, with the full confidence that our meager resources will combine with the resources of others to allow BEM to bring a measure of relief to those it serves in Haiti.

However, I don’t feel satisfied that I have done enough. I have no medical training at all. And, you need only ask my family about the time my Mom’s greyhound died in the middle of our living room while she was vacationing in Maine to find out how inept I am in an emergency. Suffice it to say that my actual labor would be of very little use to anyone in Haiti right now.

So, then what? What am I good at? How can I help those in Haiti?

A passage from Tracy Kidder’s account of Paul Farmer’s work in Haiti (Mountains Beyond Mountains) comes to mind. “How could a just God permit great misery? The Haitian peasants answered with a proverb: 'Bondye konn bay, men li pa konn separe,' in literal translation, 'God gives but doesn't share.' This meant, as (Dr. Paul) Farmer would later explain it, 'God gives us humans everything we need to flourish, but He's not the One who's supposed to divvy up the loot. That charge was laid upon us.'”

Here’s what I know: I am a good communicator, leader and motivator of people. Perhaps I can use this big, gregarious, energetic, thoughtful personality of mine to encourage long-term “sharing” with the truly desperate in Haiti.

Small groups of people in my church have sponsored sugarcane villages (bateys) filled with Haitian workers and their families who come to the Dominican Republic seeking a better life and a living wage … albeit barely. Perhaps we could work with BEM and sponsor one of the orphanages they work with. Perhaps we could work with the pastors of BEM and sponsor a family in need?

Our world convinces us that we must plan for the future: for our children’s educations, for our own retirements, etc. While I totally understand the wisdom in this thinking, I am struck by the fact that I am quite literally ferreting extra money away while the people of Haiti are starving and suffering TODAY.

For me, something’s got to give. What about you?

Perhaps I did have a few words after all.

More than the Sum of its Parts

Here in the middle of winter, while everything is cold and stark, my mind, like yours probably, is already turning to spring. What is it about us that is wired to always be thinking about the next thing? Why is it so hard to live in the moment? Perhaps that is fodder for a future blog?

To me, Spring means two things: gardening and baseball.

I am already imagining the schedule change that takes place in my house beginning mid-April: where homework must be done as soon as school is over and dinners are eaten on the bleachers of the Yalesville Little League fields while my boys are practicing or playing. I’ve also already begun searching the seed catalogues for what new items I want to put in my vegetable garden and considering an expansion of the amount of space I’ve allotted for it.

My thought this morning is about the commonality of these two pursuits; the idea that in both cases, the whole is often more than the sum of its parts.

Right now, in mid-January, my garden is merely an eyesore. The plot is piled high with leaves from the garden that, once the ground thaws, will be turned into the soil. The stakes that hold up the fence that keeps deer and Turner’s size 10-and-a-half hoofers out of my garden stand gawking against the snowy ground. Yes, more than once, a child chasing an errant fly ball in our backyard has landed square on top of a tomato plant. It’s amazing how a few five foot pieces of lumber sticking out of the ground will suddenly make my boys more careful.

But I know that come June, July and August, this otherwise insignificant plot of land will be bursting with the greens, reds, and purples of my basil, lettuce, cukes, tomatos, eggplant, beets, etc., and I can’t wait!

Similarly, when the baseball season starts, the teams are comprised of children with a very wide range of playing ability. Coaching staffs haven’t necessarily gelled yet. And sometimes, emotions run high.

Yet, by mid-June, individual players have mastered numerous skills and strategies (I still can get giddy remembering Turner’s 56 pitch shut out during all-stars last summer), and teams have coalesced into … well ….teams.

While none of this may be particularly surprising or miraculous ... it all signifies something more to me. As a parent, I eagerly wait for the fulfillment of possibility in my own children. Where will they excel? Where will they meet their fullest potential? What pursuits, traits, and rigors of their childhood will they carry into adulthood? This to me is when they will become more of the sum of their parts. Just as the combination of seeds, water and sunshine can yield one surprisingly perfect tomato, I wonder what habits of mind, body and spirit will push my children toward excellence? In the same way that running, batting and fielding drills create muscle memory so game play is instinctive, I wonder which of our family’s drills or traditions will become instinctive?

It happens to each of us. Suddenly, magically, we all mature and assemble all the gangly, disparate elements of our youths into one, recognizable adult persona. This Spring will find me, once again, taking the lessons of gardening and little league and applying those truths to my children. I am confident an adventure awaits my spirited boys and, indeed, our entire family. I wonder what it will be.

What Can You Sustain?

What is it about the turning from one year to another that compels us to make lists? The one that has been collecting in my head lists the practices I have changed around my house in order to be a better steward of the Earth's resources.

The reason I feel the need to share this list is my passionate belief that it's only the changes we can sustain that are meaningful. This, by the way, is true for anything you are trying to change: your diet, work out plan, house cleaning habits, work ethic, etc. If the plan you make is one you are going to quit on (or worse yet, is one that you know sets you up to fail) discouragement reigns.

So I share the earth-friendly habits that I have sustained:
• using only phosphate free dish and laundry soap.
• using paper towels and toilet paper made from 100% recycled paper.
• using cloth napkins at the dinner table for numerous meals versus paper napkins which get one-time use and add to the household trash.
• faithfully using curbside recycling services for cans and bottles, newspaper, and corrugated cardboard.
• taking junk mail, magazines, and various other types of packaging to the recycling center in town (open Mon, Thur, and Sat) reducing my trash significantly.
• recycling rain water and water from unfinished pitchers or glasses for watering outdoor gardens and/or indoor plants.
• using canvas bags for all purchases, even when it is not convenient; I keep canvas bags in both our cars and often tuck a couple into my purse just in case.
• this one might fall under TMI, but like Jack's Mannequin's song says, "When did society decide that we have to change or wash a T-shirt after every individual use?"; I have taken to wearing outerwear, like sweatshirts and even jeans (egads!) numerous times before washing and thus reducing laundry/energy consumption, water use, and detergent use.
• while our town doesn't offer recycling services for hard plastics (number 5s, which includes things like yogurt containers, soda bottle lids, etc.), Whole Foods offers free recycling for hard plastics.
• purchasing needed household items from consignment shops versus buying new; ask me about the totally groovy wine rack I found for my Mom at Goodwill for $2!!!
• composting household garbage like egg shells, coffee grounds and such (things that could go down the garbage disposal and burn energy to run the disposal, or go in the trash causing me to use more trash bags and add to the land fill) now go into my compost pile and will eventually get turned back into my veggie garden. I am not 100% on this one and I know the key is to move the composter closer to my back door when the weather is cold!!!
• buying local dairy products, fruits and veggies means no one is trucking my food from far away and burning more fossil fuel in the process.

I am smart enough to know that I am not smart enough to quantify the effects of all this change, but I am certain that it amounts to something good. How about you? What are you doing that I am not. Help a sistah out and share your ideas.