#5 Circles and Light
I wanted to give a gift. What could I write that would be a gift? I considered and discarded many ideas before realizing that I wanted to offer not a thought, but the light of the lives of some of the people who have touched me in the past year. I remember times I have stood with others in a circle, all holding hands, tasting the power of connection and common purpose. Yet to do more than taste, we need a very big circle, one that leaves nobody out. I'm blessed to have these people in my circle--and I offer them to you, for yours:
A dear friend who runs a school in a part of northern Uganda that is caught in a brutal civil war. While working to maintain an oasis of peace for 1500 children, she stretches to reach out to the rebels with love, and maintains the importance of listening to everybody because "first what one thinks, bad or good, must come out in order for the best thoughts to follow."
Another dear friend and loving father in Poland who is working to transform the school system of his country, involving the community, students and teachers as well as bureaucrats in the discussion of what makes an educated citizen.
A young Korean woman who sounds quiet and polite in our house, but turns out to be a fierce, all-out warrior in advocating for mistreated immigrants in her country.
A man in California who has single-mindedly pursued the dream of an international nonviolent peace force that could grow to replace armed intervention. After years of work, a founding convention has just been held in India, and his dream is becoming reality.
A woman in Chicago whose years in Korea as a young adult led to a lifetime of activism on behalf of human rights in Asia. Now struggling with a life-threatening illness, her spirit and commitment are undiminished.
A young man in Philadelphia who is passionate about learning the skills that make groups work and sharing them, so that young people in his school, his student activist group and his faith community can move more powerfully toward their common goals.
A young adult and his cousin from the northeast who support each other in their deep connection and love for the people of Nicaragua.
New friends--a Pakistani woman and and African American man, united in their Muslim faith, reaching out in a spirit of peace and good will to their neighbors, and warming the lives of all they touch.
A man I met this summer who has loved Africa and Africans all his adult life, now working steadily and without fanfare on a project to equip over 9000 local magistrates in Rwanda with skills to help reintegrate imprisoned soldiers into civilian society.
So many child care workers in Philadelphia that I am privileged to know, whose love is the basis of their work. And so many more...
As I consider the darkness around us--and not just the season--it is tempting to despair. Yet there is more than enough love and caring and creativity and human intelligence in this world to set things right. We get to be lights in the darkness for each other, helping each other to find our way forward.
Pamela Haines
Philadelphia, 12/02
Some reflections on the previous column, “When More is Less; Abundance, Scarcity and Appreciation”
I hung clothes out on the line today, and the fresh smell of them as I took them down and brought them in was a high moment of the day. Second highest moment was picking the last of the tomatoes in the garden. Perhaps it is also the fact that some routine everyday things are more appreciated when there is in the background the threat of war. If I had to choose between any sort of luxury items or activities and life's simple pleasures, there would be no contest. I look forward to hanging out my clothes again tomorrow. I'm fortunate to have a yard in which to hang them and fresh air to blow them dry.
Sally Oesterling
Each summer I've thought about how sweet the first bite of watermelon tastes... how that red sweetness helps me know that, even if the day is gloomy, summer is finally here. Now, when I see watermelon in the store, pink and pallid in a plastic box, I know there's no point trying it, even if by some fluke the price was right. It wouldn't make the temperature rise to a warm 80 degrees, allow me to go outside and feel the hot sun on my face, sit on the back porch reading till nine-at-night without the aid of a light bulb, hear the neighborhood kids outside very, very late. Like you, Pamela, I'd rather wait and enjoy that annual ritual of the first taste of watermelon for the year.
Joan Reivich
We should be filled with boundless gratitude for warm beds and good food and solid shoes and friends nearby, but instead we get bogged down in our cares and worries. I'm reminded of the old Passover song 'Dayenu'--which I can't reproduce, but it's about how God piled miracle on miracle, and even without any of them God would have been enough. We need to keep reminding ourselves of how little is enough, and how everything else is extra.
Deborah Haines
A dear friend who runs a school in a part of northern Uganda that is caught in a brutal civil war. While working to maintain an oasis of peace for 1500 children, she stretches to reach out to the rebels with love, and maintains the importance of listening to everybody because "first what one thinks, bad or good, must come out in order for the best thoughts to follow."
Another dear friend and loving father in Poland who is working to transform the school system of his country, involving the community, students and teachers as well as bureaucrats in the discussion of what makes an educated citizen.
A young Korean woman who sounds quiet and polite in our house, but turns out to be a fierce, all-out warrior in advocating for mistreated immigrants in her country.
A man in California who has single-mindedly pursued the dream of an international nonviolent peace force that could grow to replace armed intervention. After years of work, a founding convention has just been held in India, and his dream is becoming reality.
A woman in Chicago whose years in Korea as a young adult led to a lifetime of activism on behalf of human rights in Asia. Now struggling with a life-threatening illness, her spirit and commitment are undiminished.
A young man in Philadelphia who is passionate about learning the skills that make groups work and sharing them, so that young people in his school, his student activist group and his faith community can move more powerfully toward their common goals.
A young adult and his cousin from the northeast who support each other in their deep connection and love for the people of Nicaragua.
New friends--a Pakistani woman and and African American man, united in their Muslim faith, reaching out in a spirit of peace and good will to their neighbors, and warming the lives of all they touch.
A man I met this summer who has loved Africa and Africans all his adult life, now working steadily and without fanfare on a project to equip over 9000 local magistrates in Rwanda with skills to help reintegrate imprisoned soldiers into civilian society.
So many child care workers in Philadelphia that I am privileged to know, whose love is the basis of their work. And so many more...
As I consider the darkness around us--and not just the season--it is tempting to despair. Yet there is more than enough love and caring and creativity and human intelligence in this world to set things right. We get to be lights in the darkness for each other, helping each other to find our way forward.
Pamela Haines
Philadelphia, 12/02
Some reflections on the previous column, “When More is Less; Abundance, Scarcity and Appreciation”
I hung clothes out on the line today, and the fresh smell of them as I took them down and brought them in was a high moment of the day. Second highest moment was picking the last of the tomatoes in the garden. Perhaps it is also the fact that some routine everyday things are more appreciated when there is in the background the threat of war. If I had to choose between any sort of luxury items or activities and life's simple pleasures, there would be no contest. I look forward to hanging out my clothes again tomorrow. I'm fortunate to have a yard in which to hang them and fresh air to blow them dry.
Sally Oesterling
Each summer I've thought about how sweet the first bite of watermelon tastes... how that red sweetness helps me know that, even if the day is gloomy, summer is finally here. Now, when I see watermelon in the store, pink and pallid in a plastic box, I know there's no point trying it, even if by some fluke the price was right. It wouldn't make the temperature rise to a warm 80 degrees, allow me to go outside and feel the hot sun on my face, sit on the back porch reading till nine-at-night without the aid of a light bulb, hear the neighborhood kids outside very, very late. Like you, Pamela, I'd rather wait and enjoy that annual ritual of the first taste of watermelon for the year.
Joan Reivich
We should be filled with boundless gratitude for warm beds and good food and solid shoes and friends nearby, but instead we get bogged down in our cares and worries. I'm reminded of the old Passover song 'Dayenu'--which I can't reproduce, but it's about how God piled miracle on miracle, and even without any of them God would have been enough. We need to keep reminding ourselves of how little is enough, and how everything else is extra.
Deborah Haines
posted by Pamela Haines | 3:16 PM
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