"Out of the Same Cup"

We had just finished talking to the staff about our moving back to the United States. We talked rules, expectations, and guidelines.

There were tears in some eyes.

"Nou bwe nan memm gode a" (We drink out of the same cup) is what she said as we were finishing up the meeting.


In translation, she continued and she laid a hand on my waist: "When I came to work here I was prepared for anything. I didn't know the type of treatment I would receive. Later, I learned. Haitians and Whites sit together, eat together, live together. Even if I worked for a Haitian family doing the work I do (she takes care of children) I wouldn't be allowed to sit at this table with them.

Our eyes grew wet with tears.

Another spoke up: "I remember I had to cook the rice, Elijah (my ten year old brother) came and helped me cook rice. I remember him saying, 'I can do this, I won't get burned.' we work together. I'm going to miss this family very much.....I'll miss you all very much.

The other: "I will pray God's will for your lives..."

Encouragement and unity flooded the room. We had become a family here. A lovely mixture of Haitians and Americans, working together to serve the children. As the days grow shorter we have found "our greatest victory" and passing the baton is made easy, through trust in God and one another.

Sprayed -(Part 2 of The Missionary and The Cricket)

"Tom The Cricket" under the table!

The pattern proceeded for three more nights.

"Chirp"

The cricket who was silent by day and noisy by night managed to travel from under the kitchen sink to under a small table still in the kitchen. The missionary, every morning, would search and scout for the small creature, but to no avail did they find it. The missionary concluded that it was only at night that the cricket can be caught, trapped, and disposed of. So on the fourth night:

"Chirp"

The missionary, like they had done once before, tiptoed down the stairs to enter the kitchen, turned on the light.

"Chirp"

They grabbed a hold of the walking insects bug killer spray (that had been positioned on the table earlier that day). 

Aimed. 

Sprayed.

"Tom the Cricket" (photo was taken right before he was sprayed)

....

The victory came quick and silence quicker. The remainder of the night was one of peace and tranquility; one that allowed the missionary to lay and ponder there in her bed.

Thus concludes the story of the missionary and the cricket.

The Missionary and The Cricket

Once upon a time there was a cricket. He lived under a sink in the kitchen of the house of a missionary. During the day he would hide and cower behind many objects that had accumulated underneath the counter and in the cabinet. There he would stay in complete silence all day. At night, he'd sing and chirp and brush his small legs together like a violin and play, play and PLAY. The missionary, after a long day of serving would lay their head on a pillow. Instead of relaying in their heads the wonderful things that had been completed or planning for the next day, they would try and figure out a way to silence the little cricket. 

"Chirp, Chirp, Chirp..."

pic from ehow.com

Every night this would happen. Until one night the missionary decided that it was time for the cricket to end its noise. 

"Chirp." 

The missionary descended down the stairs using soft, soundless footsteps. It was dark, so they turned on the kitchen light.

"Chirp"

"Chirp" 

The missionary looked in the direction of the sink. There he was; a little black cricket the size of a dime. The missionary stood motionless by the light switch, then turned their body to a cabinet. They gently opened the pantry door and took out a plastic cup; a device to capture the singing machine. 

"Chirp"

The missionary turned to face the cricket. 

.....

It had disappeared. Disappointed and slightly frustrated the missionary switched off the kitchen light walked back up the stairs, curled up in their bed and vowed to someday silence the cricket.    

(Stay tuned for part 2 of this epic nonfiction story.)

Pieces of Peace

Estherline has this toy-kit-pet-shop thing. And, man does it have a lot of small, tiny, itty bitty, little pieces! When I watch her play, all those ant sized kitties and teacups are a peculiar sight, but oddly enough, she can sit and play with that shinky dink world for quite sometime. The look on her face is one of peace. All those miniature kitties and teacups allow her to relax....and chill. Strange, but true.

Anyway, this got me thinking, about peace. I know if I were to try and find peace in those small toys I wouldn't find it, even it I rearranged them for hours (like she does).  I decided to do some scripture diving into the subject of peace. I found this scripture:

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times 

and in every way. The Lord be with all of you.

Though finding peace in little toy pieces is totally valid (for a 9 year old girl) there is a source of peace that is available to every single one of us.

The Lord.

And trust me, allowing the Lord to be the giver of peace is something we all can do and makes more sense than searching for peace by playing  with a billion little plastic cupcakes.