Perhaps you have noticed that I have not specifically described my response to the orphans and moms, nor them to me. It’s because it is almost beyond my ability to put into words. Consider the following:
~ Are any of you parents or have a partner that you love beyond measure? When you first look into each others’ eyes, and really see one another, there is some kind of chemistry, some kind of emotional event that changes us in an instant, from stranger to family.
~ If you shake hands and meet your LECDEN member in their life space, you feel you now have a new, esteemed neighbor.
~ Place a child on your lap and he or she becomes your child, as real and tangible as though you were looking into the face of your own flesh and blood.
~ Sit by a sick mother’s bed. You will very acutely experience her pain, separated from your being only by the accidental happenstance of geographical birth. It is no less than amazing how readily you can see yourself in that bed, ravaged by pain and mental suffering with no hope whatever for a positive outcome to your situation.
~ Experience a family losing their dad and the heartbreak is no different than the loss of your partner/father of your children.
~ Receive a grant or donation and you immediately feel the relief of putting food on the table or helping get a son or daughter a job.
~ Facilitate a surgical or medical intervention and you can only thank God that you were able to be His hands in the world to save a life, as precious, conscious, as aware as your own, who is as able as you to contribute to the common good of the community.
As I left Kiambiu, the children, proud in their LECDEN Community/UWRF tee shirts, formed a line, exactly as they do in Native American communities in the US. Each shook my hand, looking downward with respect, “Asante sana, Linda. Thank you. Come back again.”
Saying farewell at the airport to my beautiful Musundi family, Kelli, Steve and our good friend, Anthony, was tough-my face was full of tears. I personally cannot tolerate leave taking as I am hysterically afraid of longing for those I love. I usually make light but this time I could not. The children sat on my lap, “We love you, Auntie Linda. We wish you didn’t have to go. We’ll miss you so much!” “I love you, too, kiddos! OK, then,” I comically chirped,” until next time!” Turning my back to them as I stood in line, I moved ever closer to departure, tears streaming. My heart ached all the way to London Heathrow, where I was just too tired and spent to feel anything.
Is this just the story of one woman recapitulating her nuclear family in an attempt to find emotional healing and wholeness? Or is my work the illuminated substance of the “unknown, unique gift” of which Sigurd spoke? Either way, promoting the idea that our global community really is” one interconnected, interdependent human family which must be healthy, self-reliant and safe” is a criticall important and timely concept. Without a doubt, it is in our self-interest to behave and think in this manner, to mutually feel the other’s pain and triumph, to understand that what happens to another will eventually impact us. There is nothing selfish in knowing that we, too, will benefit and heal from the restoration of families world-wide. What could be more satisfying than leaving ALL our children the legacy of a better world?
I challenge you as Sigurd challenged me: What can you do? How can you contribute through individual and collective action to solve the problems that our world faces? What is your unique, great unknown gift to care, to be compassionate, to make things better?
