The concept of opportunity and love

Approximately five minutes away from my house stands a gate of corroded metal which encases metal shacks where presumably people live. I know this because I pass by it everyday , and it stands out like a sore thumb a stark reminder of the poverty that lies beneath the surface.

But ultimately, I chose to walk by. You grow used to do this here. You would go crazy if you don’t. You grow used to seeing but not seeing, of keeping your eyes straight ahead when you walk, in swallowing your fear because if you do if you stop you might be in danger. You might fall back and see something you might not like.  Poverty is evident here, like a large scar but you go through life trying to not see it. It’s a leftover from my preppy school upbringing.  It’s probably what others do when they go on the trains in europe and ignore the romanian woman placing requests for donations . You just can’t humanize it. That’s what people tell themselves… and I guess it’s a coping mechanism because if we really let ourselves feel for them how could we go back ?

At least that’s what you tell yourself. But on Saturday morning, I went into that metal gate, inside a slum that I would have otherwise ignored. I didn’t know the way in so a boy offered to walk with me to go inside.  Inside the shacks were stacked one across the other, nothing I hadn’t seen before but never in such close proximity. The dusty floor, the tiny boxed surfaces of housing which would only be one room otherwise.

And there I stood in quiet contemplation wondering how all of this could exist right beside me, how this life was so different from my own.  They had been there since the war and probably longer, refugees given asylum but essentially were left to a fate of getting used to a land that at any point could be taken from them. Most of the 150 people there did not work, and they were at the moment trying to get them to move away to an apartment complex and convince them to pay forty dollars a month for rent. 

I wonder about this. And one told me how he had once went to the United States, of walking for days and going by bus from mexico and crossing a river to get to the united states. Of living in constant fear of being discovered of the exorbitant costs of rent. And ultimately his deportation back to this area. But he is hopeful, and proud and wants to change the community he cares about. He works with the group who wants to offer an education and give junior youth and children class . 

And I hope these kids are offered a choice, and ability to educate and empower this community. Because a lot of times, people get caught up in making the american dream that they forget on the people they leave behind.

My housekeeper left to Texas after nine years doing paperwork. She is the first of her family going on plane. She hasn’t seen her husband for nine years. Will it be the same? How is she coping when she doesn’t know how to use a microwave ? I wonder about her, and the two boys she is forced to leave behind.

So many broken families separated for years, so many people never looking back and only returning with strong american accents and pinched noses eager to leave just as soon as they can.  And I, the girl who has no real blood ties and two shiny passports in her pocket feel a lingering guilt and sadness over it.

I can’t know that life. Just as others in the united states won’t know what it’s like to live without water for days on end or not have electricity.  I never lived somewhere with dirt floors on my feet, and I never didn’t have a choice. Yet, somehow I am in a situation where my life could be far better. The writing projects I have been getting are erratic, my friends and social life are sparse in between. Yet,it struck me on saturday what a luxury that I have that choice. That I don’t have to worry about water sources, That my future was never limited purely based on money.  These kids, they just came up to me and hugged me. They didn’t know me . They just wanted to be noticed and loved. 

And that is probably something we have to remember. Love is wealth. It really is. We go out of our way to pursue material things, and measure happiness in what we have and be miserable with what we don’t …. yet if we love  and we give love is it not a sign that we are wealthy?

Sometimes we have to lose a lot to know of the opportunities that are still out there. Hope filters through ashes, and sometimes it’s hard to find.  Here’s to better things…

A Story on perseverance and faith

Here is a children’s story on the power of perseverance and faith that I wrote :Once a long time ago, there was busy town called Santa Tecla. Santa Tecla was filled with big giant buses who choked out smog . It had large malls filled with department stores and everyday more and more people started to stumble into the bustling town.

Yes, it was growing at a fast pace. The problem was that as it grew, they were cutting down all the trees around there. And the earth was so dry that it was very hard for anything to flourish…almost impossible.

Pretty soon the town awoke and realized how hard it was to breathe, and they tried very hard for something to grow. But it was in vain, as the sky was choked with darkness.

Many gave up and decided to leave. Pretty soon, Santa Tecla was a dry abandoned city. They called it the Dead City for a reason.

One day, a man came about who wanted to change things. He was young and impulsive and decided that he would give things a try.

Everyone warned him that it was fool’s game and it was not a good idea to try to let anything grow there. The city was festered with disease and darkness and there was no way out.

But Roberto Mendez smiled at them kindly. He told them ” Darkness is only the absence of light my dear friends. I am going to help dispel the darkness”.

They shook their heads and realized how stubborn he was. A reporter came in and wrote a piece on him, talking about the crazy man who tried to make things grow. Every day Roberto Mendez would get up and go to a small little patch of land in one of the most abandoned part of the town. It was near a large cracked wall and a huge ruined mansion. The dirt was so dry that it seemed like concrete.

But the crazy man would just sing to the earth and tell it ” Grow, grow my beautiful land try to grow grow
We all know know
You can sow sow beautiful flowers and trees
So we can attract all the bees
And dispel the dark
and make a beautiful park

People would come from all over to laugh at him. He would water the land but it seemed just as dry as before. ” Even if he does manage to get that little tiny patch of earth  to grow things what would be the point? The town is filled with concrete, the darkness in the sky will always continue”.

Time passed. Roberto continued to rise every day and water that dry patch of land. He would never despair if he saw no results. He believed with all his heart that it would happen. He would smile up to the sky and pray for the rain to fall.

One day, a 12 year old girl saw Roberto happily working on the dust.  Her name was Diana. Diana was small and kind and did not like it when people would come and point and laugh at Roberto.

She would watch him closely everyday. She even would sing along to his strange little song. One day , she saw a water can that her grandmother had abandoned. She grabbed some orange seeds her grandmother kept in a box and ran to Roberto with them.

She told Roberto ” Tell me, everyday you see no results yet you continue to water the land. Why do you persevere so much?”

He smiled and told her ” The sun is in the sky even when there are clouds. The ground still has dirt even if it is dry. We must always continue to try”.

She smiled at him and felt the ray of sun shine through her giving her strength. She felt that God had given them this gift. “We are the first people to accept this challenge, but soon there will be others, and they will continue the work long before we are gone…”

One day, the dirt became browner in color. The next day they were able to plant a seed in the ground. It was but a tiny seed yet they kept watering the seed day by day. The next day they planted another until they had a lot of tiny little seeds in the patch of land.

After awhile, Diana’s friends came to help and learned from the way they watered the ground and tried to do the same thing near where they lived. Little by little, patch by patch the land started to grow.

The reporter Mr. Fuss Bucket came back after many years of being away. By then, Diana and Roberto were older but they had a large group of people helping them . The garden was becoming large with big and powerful trees. Always the cynic, Mr. Fuss Bucket asked them ” How can you be sure we won’t make the same mistake again?”

Diana and Roberto told them ” We can’t really. We will never really know. The important thing is , mainly that we try  and we keep trying. And we share that learning with others ” Diana looked down and patted the head of a small boy that looked a lot like her.

The sun was setting. The clouds were begining to leave and you could feel the air was sweeter. The fruits were starting to show and Roberto gave them the quote of Abdul Baha once again :

The wise man does not work for the present moment but for the good results of the future. See in the winter how bare and lifeless the trees and plants seem, without leaves and without fruit. Suppose one should pass by at this time who knew nothing of the condition of the earth and saw a man ploughing it up and casting grain in the furrow. Would he not say, “How foolish this man is. He is troubling himself for no result, working for no purpose and wasting that which would give him food”? But in due time the showers descend upon the earth, the sun shines, the breezes blow and we see the result in great beauty and production. So is the work of the Holy Spirit in your hearts. The earthly sun is like the Sun of Truth; the rain is the shower of the mercy of God; the seed is the word of God; the air is the fragrant waves of His Holy Spirit and the soil is the hearts of the people”

As time passed, different people started to grow in their garden , and then dispersed the seeds in other places. It took a long time, but Santa Tecla became green once again.