'PLEASE DONATE TO OUR FAMILY'S FUNDRAISER TO BRING OUR LITTLE BUTTERFLY HOME."
FROM HAITI WITH LOVE..
I received this picture of this small child at age 13 months through an email from one of my friends. His weigh is less than 9 pounds and no longer than a 2-liter bottle of coke. At age 13 months his weight should be at least 23 or more pounds. Place both of your two hands together with two four pound bags of sugar and this is the size of this small child.When we adopted our son Patrick is weighed only 12 pounds at age 2 years. So this small boy brings back memories of a bittersweet beginning of my small son's Patrick young life living the life of an orphan.
*****Like the story of the young boy and the starfish. The young boy would pick up a starfish and toss it back into the sea only for another starfish to washed onto the shore. Orphan children are like star fish, we work to bring them to a home or help in the quality of their lives. One child may not make a difference, but through the many "starfish or children" each one makes a difference.
One of my favorite quotes is by Winston Churchhill
"We make a living by what we get and we make a life by what we give."
If you were to win a million dollars today, how would I spend it?
Would your prefer your house be made of Gold or should you chose to live in a house you built with your own hands?
In the early 60's my sister, brother and I would stay with my grandparents. My grandparents were farmers, no paychecks to be cashed, it was the heart of the land which render their living. If you did not work, you did not eat. If you have a bad crop, you did not eat. This was their life day in and day out.
Many a morning we would wake up before the light entered into the windows of their home. One by one we would head out the door prior to breakfast to pick peas, cotton whatever needed picking. Barefeet and a floursack attach to each of oursides we worked the rows with the early morning dew clinged to our clothes. Shortly we would be joined by our neighbors, they were sharecroppers. Side by side we worked the field, many of them this was their only way to earn food for their families.
I learn early in life no matter what your color we all had to work and we all had to eat. My first friend was Tessa she had a head full of black braids. We both shared homes with our grandparents. Many families in the south were of large extended families. Chores were divided between each other and each one the same as the other. Everyone pulled their fair share. Just two miles from my grandparents and divided by a bobwire fence we would met. Some days after I return from school I would run and meet her and pass my school papers between the fence. In the 60's not many black children attended school. Many of them had to work the fields or care for the younger children.
My grandparents were away for a funeral and Tessa's grandmother Della was caring for us while my mother worked evenings. She was our Nanna-Della a woman full of love, smiles and the smelled of rose perfume. We were her little flowers or roses.
Being so far in the country my grandparents home was miles from everything and everyone. One evening prior to bed my grandparents home had caught fire from the fireplace. Della and my two oldest sisters remain trying to put out the flames. She rushed me out the door and told me to walk up the hill with two my younger sisters and brother. Not knowing where to go or what to do I just set out walking in the light of the moon. This walk was the longest two miles of my life and one step after another they seem to never end.
I could feel the heat on my back of my grandparents home burning to the ground. Afraid to look back I kept walking forward and was met in the arms of Tessa and Tessa's mother. From a distance I sat and watched the flames blow into the night's sky. This was the main part of my childhood that soon would come crashing to the ground and shortly left in ashes. My mother arrived later in the evening shaking, crying with worries of losing her children. What a hard thing for a young mother to go through not knowing what happen to her children. She gather us children one by one like eggs and head to find us a place to stay for the night. The following morning my younger sister was airlifted to another city and treated for burns. My sister's scars have faded over this last 35 years but the scars of seeing this fire still remains in all of us children. My mother took us to to stay the night at our aunt. That night I did not sleep, I laid awake wondering where was our home now. This was not our home, nor my bed, nor the clothes I own.. Much like an orphan who's homeless and laying in an orphanage. Each night just staring at the ceiling and wondering what will happen next . Sharing a bed, sharing clothes and not a home just a temporary place to stay.
My father was station in Vietham half way across the world in the midst of the present War, had to quickly to return to the states to find his family a home. That night was the last time I saw my friend Tessa and my sweet Della. I still remember Della's smell of rose perfume and Tessa's black braids.
In the eyes of a child you see no different in the color of ones skin or hair, you know no hate from ones skin's color. You do not learn hate color at one's birth.. Hate, what a terrrible word for a child to learn. Especially when as a child we hear and see this everyday.
Back in the 60's in our town of Selma Alabama you seen this often in the streets. And being a child seeing this you do not forget. I knew in my heart I would teach my children different.
Shortly after my father had return home we return back one last time to my grandparents home. Walking through once was my bedroom my grandparents home was now lefted in just ashes. The house was never rebuilt and as for the memories of my childhood they remained in the fields and remained in the ashes.. The following year we moved to England.
The last few months I spend preparing paperwork for our adoption and my days my thoughts were on this small child. I only wish if there was away I could cradle him in my arms and let him know he is loved. My prayers today are all orphan and children suffering. And may this one small boy be given a chance to survive. I ask that may God send an angel to protect them all........
