The flowers will return

Manman yo (the mothers)

On Monday mornings, for 30 minutes when the children have school (and when nothing else that is  seen as more important arises,) I meet with and provide some training for the manmans, the women who do most of the direct care of the children.  Some of these mothers have children of their own who live with relatives.  It is not that these women want to leave their own children, it is the reality that there are few employment possibilities in Haiti, so in order to provide at least minimally for their own children financially, they accept work away from their families caring for children whose own families can not.  During my brief formation on Monday, I told the mothers, "travay nou pa fasil", (your work is not easy.)  They clapped because apparently most of the time they do not generally feel that this is acknowledged.  I told them they should clap for themselves and for each other; for some reason just because I spoke what I thought was an obvious truth they said they were clapping for me (I usually work with small groups of children at one time and I go to a convent that is not at the orphanage every night and sleep in my own bedroom; they sleep at the orphanage in the children's rooms.  Imagine sleeping most nights in a room with as many as 17 children between the ages of 3 and 11.)  Really, everybody should be clapping for them all of the time, every day.  So often it is the people with the most difficult jobs, who do the direct caring of those who are most vulnerable who are least respected and at least in most places that I am aware very poorly compensated (financially and otherwise.)  This is not just true in Haiti, think of nurses aides, teaching assistants, and day care workers in the US.

First Full Week

For me the first full work week back after vacation went well.  I made a few adjustments to the Sunday therapy schedule to give the oldest children a choice regarding what kind of group or program they would like to attend.  This improved attendance among the adolescents.  Attendance is not usually a problem with the younger children, in fact, some of the littlest kids actually often ask to come.

My English class resumed and seemed to go well.  I hope my students enjoy it as much as I do.

Earthquake Anniversary

Thursday marked the 7th anniversary of the earthquake that did so much damage to this country.  This year the children had school.  There were prayers during mass.   Certainly, it seemed that there was a deep awareness of the anniversary, but it was not considered a holiday this year; things went on pretty much as they would any other ordinary Thursday, although nobody has forgotten.  

Buds

After a particularly long day at the orphanage, while walking towards the house I looked up and saw a bud on my favorite tree, the tree whose beautiful flowers fascinated me last year.  The flowers have been gone for months now.  The leaves recently began to fall from the tree; for whatever reason, this tree needs to let go of the leaves before the flowers bloom.  The tree looks a bit awkward at the moment; I suppose this is normal in the midst of any transition, growth, or major transformation.  It has also been significantly pruned since last year, too.  The visible buds remind me that the flowers will return.  Yes, the flowers will return.  There is hope.  I can trust the paschal mystery.

Have a good week.     Remember, you can let go of the leaves you are clinging to because the flowers will come. And, I challenge you to be sure to tell someone who is doing the underappreciated and most important work of caring for people who are vulnerable that you know their work is difficult and that they are appreciated.  Many blessings!  Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings.