Got flyers?

Got my newspaper today. It was 40 pages long. 34 pages of business ads, 340 pages of FLYERS. 46 pages for grocery stores and 294 pages for Christmas shopping! We'd rather spend time and money shopping for things and being consumers? What about the poor with no food, water or education? What about the homeless? Maybe less spending on gifts and more time with our families would be a better investment? After all, we can't take a thing with us when we die, and no one will say, "Boy, I'm sure glad that I indulged in those knick knacks which ended up in the landfill." Or, "I sure would rather have spent my time shopping instead of with my kids." 294 pages of Christmas flyers is just plain WRONG.

Standing up for our community...

I've been in the midst of months of advocating against the closure of my son's small community school. I believe that whether here, or abroad, we must never forget to be a voice for what which we believe. By the way, we lost our battle and the school will close on June 30, 2011. But, all is not lost. We stood for what was right, we raised awareness of the educational systems and their bent to politics and policies. We advocated for our kids, for our community and the senseless tragedy of selling school and public lands to finance short sighted projects. Years down the road, as society crumbles with broken homes, kids doing drugs and falling through the cracks, the school districts will contemplate whether they should have preserved small community schools that support and maintain the integrity of the whole child.

I think that part of the problem that we have is a lack of awareness of what it takes to raise a child. It takes community and the more we give up our right and freedoms in that regard, we are removing the stability from our future generations.
We should not be selling public and school lands to draw a quick dollar. We should not create large mega-centres of learning or existing, losing sight of the value of the basic unit of support; the family and the community. We don't need massive homes, schools or debt. We can live much more simply. As rich as we are in North America, I have to say that we are becoming bankrupt in the area of community preservation and values. As poor as people in Africa are...they are rich in community. They do not have alot in a material sense. They are not driven by consumerism and the sheer exhaustive busyness that keeps our lives in a frenzy of lost time at home or of paralyzing debt to maintain our lives. That tireless and paralyzing cycle exists in our homes, in our school systems and in our businesses. What are we doing with our God-given resources and blessings?

I guess that more that I think about our North American way of life, or the things that we are willing to give up (community schools, closing old age homes,etc), the more I realize that fighting for justice in Africa is much more appealing to me in in many ways. At the very least, we are not fighting with a spirit of entitlement and excessive contemplation of self-reward. I'd much rather advocate for people that have no education, water and healthcare than battle with those that don't understand the privilege of what they have in their hands.

So, what are you willing to do?

"Truth is not only violated by falsehood; it may be equally outraged by silence. In the great scheme of things, what matters is not how long you live, but why you live, what you stand for, and what you are willing to die for. (Henri F. Amiel)

When it comes down to it, I truly wonder what we are willing to do? Silence comes in many forms and perhaps the worst is complacency. Are we comfortable living our lives not really "looking" at the injustices around us? Are we comfortable just living our lives as moments of opportunity to reach out to others evaporate before our eyes? Are we comfortable thinking that those injustices are too big or unreachable? Who are we kidding? Even with awareness, there is the danger of mere contemplation. Learning, reaching, caring...these are ALL action words. They require not only conviction but also an action toward the goal of improving the lives of others. You don't love someone by just telling them. You don't support someone by looking on. You get in there...personally. All great feats of love and change are made by stepping into people's lives....somehow. Every minute that we overlook costs someone their quality of life, or life itself.

So, let's remember this quote. Let's not focus on rushing through life, getting busy, forgetting the plight of others. Its not about the amount of time we live and how much we can squeeze in. Let's make the most of our moments. Let's live intentionally. Let's really think about what we are living for...loving OTHERS! Our husbands, wives, children...those less fortunate. What are we willing to stand for? You either stand for something or you fall for everything. And that's no consolation to the people that really need us. Be brave, be courageous. Every moment that we choose not to step out is a moment that takes away from someone else's quality of life. For the poor, for those with no voice that we can't see thousands of miles away...or even the homeless right in our cities....those are precious moments that take them further away from hope, love, dignity and opportunity. They are starving for all of these things. Isn't every life worth our effort? What are you going to do about it? Don't procrastinate, start today!

Can you imagine?

Can you imagine what it's like to crouch down on the floor?
With mud for walls and dusty floors and stomachs with no more.
And just a tiny slit in the mud, cracks down a ray of light,
But on those stormy cold wet nights, there's no comfort close in sight.

Can you imagine what it's like to have no food and scrounge it every day?
To walk barefoot to the dump because mother has no pay.
And pick up rotten fruits and meat that no one else will eat,
It's either this or spend the day begging on the street.

And did you know we have no water to wash or cook or drink?
Only water falling from the sky into our dirty,old bucket sink.
To get water we have to walk an hour and a half away,
And even then, that's only if we have money with which to pay.
And if we send our children, we pray they'll be alright,
It can be just as scary as things that happen in our nights.

Can you imagine what it's like to watch your loved ones die?
Afflicted with curable diseases,taken long before their time.
And did you know that often times in shallow graves they lay?
Right in our homes, beneath our feet, that's where they have to stay.

Can you imagine what it's like to be outcast and alone?
While others think that we are cursed and still would throw out stones?
God,I cry out! I've been told that I'm loved and I am yours,
Then, please bring your love, your hope, and your light,
Through our darkened crumbling doors.

Today, I saw some people I've never ever seen!
No one has ever dared to come. I don't know how long it's been.
They walked along the rain drenched roads, reaching out to touch.
No one has ever done that...the warmth, it meant so much.

They even came inside our homes and cared enough to pray,
And this made our hearts to feel that hope was one its' way.
They've come to fill our many needs, every day there's something more.
It revives our souls to see that God has so much more in store.

Their love, it shows Lord, that you're more than able to provide for all our needs,
And for those out there that just don't know, we pray you'll plant the seeds.
May they be able to give up comforts, so that we may merely live,
Willing hearts and serving hands, that's all they need to give.

And now I know we're not alone, forgotten and secluded.
God is bringing His love to Korah and everyone's included.
For God so loved the world that He gave up His only Son,
That all might be free with life overflowing - each and every one.

Angie Appenheimer
August 2010

Pressing on for Korah

I know that it's been a while since my last post. I've been enjoying having the kids at home and continuing to pray and ponder how the Lord would like to lead me in helping the impoverished in Ethiopia. I feel that He has laid a vision before me and a passion that I am called to follow. I have been reading, researching, emailing....and praying so that the path ahead of me will unfold in His time. Alongside Hope International and our team, I am networking and coming up with ways to bring hope, love and a future to Korah, the outcast community which we visited.

The distance has been difficult to bear. Ethiopia is very close to my heart and so every day that passes that I live life here while these beautiful people live in hardship is very difficult for me. Every day that I sit here in my comforts, people are getting sick, people are dying and people are still eating from the garbage dump. I just can't accept that and I will not let my distance keep me from pressing on for the people of Korah. When we were there, they asked us to be their voice...so here I am speaking out however and whenever I can.

There is absolutely nothing that separates us from helping others. Busyness, disinterest, complacency, lack of understanding, thinking we don't have anything to offer,these are things that require a change of thinking. We must move away from self-orientation intentionally to help others. We can all have hearts to love and hands to serve...in some small way. It's not complicated unless we think it so.

If you'd llke to know more about Korah, please leave me a comment. I'll be sure to get back to you. As I continue to believe, with God's strength and vision, we can all work together for hope. No one is forgotten or alone. Of course, that requires a change of thinking, a change of pace, a change from self to others, and a change to action. So, I press on for Korah. Will you join me?

Banking on our needs

We've all heard the term,"banking on it", which means that we're pretty confident about whatever it is that we're hoping for. I can't help but notice lately how much financial institutions are "banking" on our perception of needs. They are doing a great job of convincing us of all that we think could could need and deserve. I've seen banners that read,"You're richer than you think" and "We all have so many needs". Of course, what lenders are doing is giving us an invitation to entertain our perceived needs, followed by a false reality of what we can afford to borrow to get those "must haves". Corporations all over the world are "banking on" consumerism and we are just as enthralled to dive into its promises of happiness and fulfillment. Sure, there are needs that require us to spend money. But, I think that our society has tainted its view of true needs. We've elevated needs to an unhealthy and almost toxic level. Our society is in more in debt than it's ever been, and despite grim economic forecasts, we just keep adding to our list of "things we can't manage without". One of my boys learned the difference between needs and wants at school in his grade 3 class. So, why do we teach it if we can't live it?

Can I tell you through the eyes of an impoverished mother in Korah, an outcast community of lepers, prostitutes, HIV and orphaned children what "needs really look like? This mother uses every ounce of her frail body to get through the day. She has 2 boys, both of which I've met, aged 10 and 2. She lives in a dilapidated shack made of sticks, mud, newspapers, plastic bags and frayed tarp pieces. Her home was made from items at the garbage dump. That's not all that comes from the dump into her home. This mother can't feed her boys every day. Any meal that they do eat is scrounged from the dump too. This mother is too weak to walk to the dump, and so...she sends her boys. They join the crowds that wait as the garbage trucks back up, opening their compactors to release the foul smelling cargo. I'm envisioning all those eyes scanning the huge heaps of garbage looking for any semblance of a bite to eat. I know that this triggers of frantic rush in the crowd. The boys begin their journey home, perhaps in the pouring rain. Their dirty and tattered clothes are now soaked. The older brother wears torn up shoes that are no match for the mud squishing between his toes and the many rocks that make their way into his shoes, cutting the soles of his feet. When the boys arrive at home, they find their mother hunched over in pain. Her belly is swollen; it has been for some time. Her face is sullen and her eyes just look down. She struggles to get to her feet.

News of our team has come to Korah and that there are some nurses. And so, the mother begins her arduous, breathless walk to see if she has some hope of getting better. Faithfully, her little boys follow. The older boy knows that his mother is very sick. His father has died and now he sits with his little brother waiting for news that his mother will be helped. I stand there next to her, watching as she struggles with her breath to lift her foot one small step. I motion to help her. In that moment, her struggle and her reality hit me.

She is very sick. She has no money. She cannot afford medical care. She does not have food or water for her family. Water is one and a half hours away. She has nothing...but her boys. I am told that she is likely to have AIDS, perhaps cancer and that her organs has almost failed completely. She may have 2 months to live. Our team provides the money required to get her to the hospital for urgent care. Will she make it? In the nurse's room, she is told that she is very ill and that they cannot help her without hospital care. She cups her hands and begins to cry.

So, do we really know what "needs" truly are? Will we ever come to understand the danger of wanting so much? What is needed is to step into the reality of this woman's life...into real needs. Needs that draw the line between life and death. We need to know her story. We need to know that her she will more than likely die and that her boys will become orphans. We need to know that we CAN do something about it if we choose...because after all, "we're richer than we think".

And while we're at it, let's carefully stop to evaluate our "needs", our desires and our wants. There isn't anything in this world that can fill us...except for God. Let's not be enslaved to borrowing to the point of becoming broke, or unable to share our resources with those that truly "need" it. Instead, let's take hold of our lives...let's be good stewards of all that is given to us and of all that we can live without. Let's give dignity, opportunity and hope to others by putting their needs before our wants. We can make a difference. That's what we need to "bank" on.

These last few weeks have taken me to unchartered places, except that they are not the places that I expected. These last weeks, I have been grieving. I can't seem to walk through any day, or even any hour without going back in spirit and in heart to the places where I witnessed the deepest levels of poverty and injustice I have ever seen. Re-entering "our world" and coming to grips with the fact that the people that I've met are left behind in "their world" is very difficult for me. I am struggling to understand why the gap is so great. I am struggling to comprehend why precious people are perishing every minute in our waking days. I am struggling to imagine the fear that must creep over a young woman in the darkness of the night.

I am struggling to understand why young children must run to the garbage dump every day to get the best pickings of rotten food. Yet other children, with no slum to call home...live at the dump, sleep at the dump...whose hopes go no further than fighting for the next morsel, and sometimes that fight is with wild dogs. I know that this picture isn't pretty, but it would be unfair to paint another picture, since it wouldn't be the reality of poverty and destitution.

So, now when I drive down the street on "garbage day", I come to the realization that my neatly bagged refuse would be a treasure to starving children. I cannot accept that reality. The thought of it makes me very unsettled, it disturbs me.It makes me feel the injustice very deeply. Frankly, I don't think that we are meant to feel comfortable all the time. Comfort is part of our problem. We need to get out of our comfort zones. Once we experience poverty, whether it be through seeing it with our own eyes, or hearing it from others, we are then called to be responsible for it. Responsibility calls us to be agents of change. How can we look away once we have seen or heard of how others live? By doing nothing, we accept the responsibility for the fact that another life will be sacrificed in a deplorable way so that we may remain comfortable. I don't think that any of us would be ok with accepting that.

So, what do we do with that? Do we chalk up such trips to a great experience seen and short term contributions made? Do we settle back into our world and hope that change will come...eventually...somehow? Do we mean to have the good intentions of making a difference....and hope to remember to do something about it? Do we tell others and hope that they will catch a glimpse of what grieves the heart of God? For me, this deep pain in my heart is good. It reminds me that I am meant to feel for others' struggles and pain. I reminds me that now that I have seen, and now that I am aware of the gap and its height and depth and width that I cannot possibly be the person that I was. I am capable of being part of the change that I want to see in the world. I cannot leave it to someone else. We should not wait for someone else to take those vital steps. Imagine if everyone were to take a step. We'd all be working together for that hope and that change that our world so desperately needs. We'd have a poverty revolution on our hands!

My pain and grieving for the losses that others experience drives me to make a choice. I choose be a part of that change and to walk the road less travelled...choosing to remember the pain of the impoverished and allowing myself to feel it. I am choosing to re-live my moments in Ethiopia with the young, the old, the sick, the dying, the starving, the lepers, the prostitutes, those with Aids, the orphans, and the soon-to-be orphans. I cannot forget the slimy green water where animals drink and people step, the mud between tiny little toes in shoeless feet, the countless flies on little faces, the huge bundles of wood on aching backs, the stumps of wood that serve as feet for the lepers, the missing fingers on hands that shook mine, the stench of urine and dirt emanating from mothers carrying their babies all day and the tiny little shack where a woman's husband lay buried in a shallow grave beneath her feet. I can't forget.....I won't forget. Those people that feel forgotten need to be remembered. They need us to move beyond hearing their stories. They need us to see their lives and to respond. Their lives depend on it. They need us to move beyond our good intentions to actions...to a place where we can get them "of out the dump."

On the wrong side of the bed

Let's be honest. There are days that we wake up on the wrong side of the bed. We wake up disappointed with the challenges that lay ahead....busyness, loneliness, emptiness, confusion. There are a multitude of possibilities and rationales that could keep us from even getting out of bed. Now imagine for a moment that you COULDN'T get out of bed....just as the man in this picture. He is confined to his quarters...to a dark, dingy room that is perhaps 6x8 feet. He has tarps for walls and a filthy dirt floor. Fortunately, the old leper man has a window in his room, but other than that, his room is fairly dark and certainly very dreary. He doesn't choose to stay in his room, he simply can't physically get out of his bed. His leprosy has completely disabled his body. In fact, he struggles to turn his body around to look out that window. He is too weak to get up and do it. I can't imagine this...can you? I remember peeking into his room and finding him there, immobile, almost seemingly paralyzed. Whatever his affliction, nothing stopped him from giving me a wide smile. His eyes were filled with a love that I cannot describe. My arm reached out to his and we shook hands. I said, "God bless you". I don't know if he knew what I was saying or not, but there was a mutual understanding that we were there together in loving kindness. He was so thrilled to have a visitor! I could have peeked in and seen a bitter, angry and ill-tempered man, chiseled by the pain of his circumstances. I could have found a man paralyzed socially by his physical immobility and by his rejection from others. I could have found a man that hid under his dirty covers, or that told me to leave his small abode. Instead, I found a man willing to embrace his day fully, to extend his hand in friendship to me...fully, despite his inability to move on that bed. And so, for this man, there is no getting out of the bed on the wrong side. There is no laying there wondering what his steps out of the bed will bring. There are no physical steps to be taken. There is no daylight to be seen, other than the view that the small window gives him. There are no visitors, no taking a walk or marveling at the children playing. Yet in this man I saw the conviction, the desire and the willingness to live and to share his life. Feeling like you can't get out of bed today? Or perhaps that what lies ahead in your day is too much? Perhaps its time to remember my old friend, the man who walked a thousand steps out of his paralyzed realities to greet me with his all. Perhaps it is time to remember that every day, every thought and every step must be taken captive whether we want to get out of bed or not and whether we wake up on that wrong side of the bed. No matter what our circumstance, each day brings the opportunity to embrace it. After all, the Lord's mercies are new everyday. They are ours to receive. For the men and women of Korah, for the lepers that don't have feet, for the prostituting mothers that face life with shame and reckless abandonment, for the children that will run every day to the dump for their food, and for all the hearts that hope, dream and aspire....let's honor them by getting out of our bed and living life to the fullest. Maybe then, we'll find the purpose, the motivation, the persistence, the understanding and the desire to see God at work and to make a difference in the lives of those that have no voice....and no feet to step out of bed.

A Mother's Love

There are few things that can compare with the beauty of a mother's love. In it's unspoken affections, it cradles civilizations. It births nations and plants the seeds of future generations. It inspires dreams and encourages paths never imagined. It perseveres through the roughest of times, being the strength that is needed to walk many a rocky road or scale the heights of daunting mountains. A mother's love is sacrificial, giving over completely to oneself for the good of another life. It can be the force that drives us when we feel incapable of walking another step, and it can be the gentle whisper that says, "I love you, I believe in you, and there is nothing that you cannot achieve." Love can give wings for one to soar. And yet, I also know that a mother's love can be squelched. It can be dulled by disillusion, by hardship, and by fear. It can be hidden through the depths of internal pain, physical, emotional and spiritual. It can make some feel that they are not enough, even though they are. It can paralyze and be a painful reminder of how one was not loved. And so, within the beauty of motherhood, there is a world that embraces its beauty and a parallel world that hides from its potential. It is this contrast that I reflect on as I remember the mother's of Korah.

On this Mother's Day, I can't help but think of the many mothers that I saw. Yesterday, I sat in the gleaming hot sunshine, enjoying the sound of birds in my yard. My kids were playing around, having fun. My husband was working on some garden projects. Here was a brightness and a joy that the mother's of Korah would not experience. My heart felt that pain and that injustice. Then, my husband asked me what I would like to eat for Mother's Day...a choice to have something that I enjoyed. And what of the mother's that live in Korah? There are no choices, and there are certainly not many husbands around, if any, that would even care to ask even if they had the means. I remember the homes of these women...dark, dingy, holes in the ground. They were not in the ground, but they may have well been. From pure daylight you could walk into their homes into complete darkness. Pitch black! You could barely make out the image of the person in front of you. The homes were made from eucalyptus or bamboo frames and sheathed in newspapers, plastic bags, tarps, ripped clothes...whatever would hold together. Most lived in complete darkness with their children, and yet they still needed to pay $13USD per month for their "home". They had nothing but a dirty heap of blankets on the floor for a bed, where the entire family would sleep, and maybe the luxury of a pot or a coal burner for heat. Tarps draped down as roofs with little protection from the heavy rains. Buckets sat on the dirt floor collecting drips. The home would be damp, musty and cold at night. Cats sat in the rafters for protection. Protection from what? From rats that would eat at fingers and toes at night. As I was walking out of one of the homes (where 22 people lived), a poster caught my eye. It was a laminated sketch of a caucasian woman embracing her child. The print was entitled, "A Mother's Love". No matter where we live, whether it be in precious comforts of North America, or the dark confines of an outcast village.....there is always a mother's love.

These women live in darkness, squalor, depravity, destitution, every single day. They live with no husbands since most have left. They live with many children...and even though the rest of the world will frown upon their fertility in the midst of destitution, the reality is that they are abused, taken advantage of and have no ability to say, "NO!". Drunken men walk the village paths at night, having their drink and their way. There is no access to birth control, no access to healthy food, or water for that matter...and those that do might have to walk and hour and a half, miles and miles. Some send their small children to carry the 50 pound containers. Others walk themselves, with children saddled on their backs. Some hobble along the trek with nothing more than stumps for feet to get there. Money for health care, food, clothes....these are dreams not realized. What do they do for income? Prostituting their bodies....or those of their young children. How much that must grieve a mother's heart! I can't imagine. Others have escaped near death since their husbands tried to kill them because of their disfigurements (leprosy)..and so they live with the reality of rejection and abandonment every single day...outcast by their families. They live with their many children, huddled in tight spaces, covered with dirty blankets. Babies stop breast feeding when they get sick. Then, they stop breastfeeding all together due to a lack of energy. One woman fed her baby a grey, slimy goo out of a dirty plastic container. That's all she had to offer. Her baby is dying. How she must cry at night. Mothers walk to the garbage dump in the search for food with one or more babies swaddled to their bodies. They care for sick and dying children, most of which die of malnutrition before they reach the age of 5. And so, these could be the mothers whose love is dulled by disillusion, hardship, abandonment, and utter desperation. And yet, these were the mothers that I saw passionately clutching their children, caressing their babies, smiling at their toddlers and breaking out into a proud, wide smiles whenever we would stop to look at their children or take their picture. These were the mothers that "just kept going no matter what the day had to offer". These were the mothers that asked us to pray for their sick children, who clutched on to hope for dear life. These were the mothers that broke out into a wail when they found out that they were too sick, perhaps even dying...to sick to care for their children. Can you imagine realizing that your own children will be orphans? These were the mothers that took our hands and kissed them and cried when they received clothes, or medicine or food. And when one of our team members found 2 granola bars in her purse to give to one of these mothers, she did as any mother would do,she gave it to her children. A mother's love...a universal beauty, and in my mind even more beautiful in the women of Korah, that outcast community where even the darkest poverty and the most profound destitution does nothing to hide the passion and the deep love of a mother.

Please pray for the mothers at Korah. I believe that the love and prayers that we were able to give them was a glimpse of the immense love that God has for them. I believe that seeds of hope were planted those days and that our continued prayers will make a huge difference to the mothers of Korah. Please pray for them today.

Lord, we pray for the mothers of Korah. You know their struggles and what lies within their hearts. You see their tears and you hear their cries. Please protect them from the many dangers that meet them in their days, and in their nights. Protect their children from harm and disease and guard their hearts and souls as they witness circumstances that no children should see. Lord, provide them with food and water to sustain their frail bodies. Be their strength and their hope. Help them to walk their long roads until the day that we can all join together to help to release them from their hardships....one day at a time, one need at a time. Lord, the need is tremendous. Help us not to focus on the immensity of the hardship, but on the intensity of your love. Help us to remember the depth and breadth and width of your love for the people of Korah. You cared for them enough that you have brought your light there. You have brought men and women, one a time, to minister your love, your provision, your compassion and your continued hope. Lord, may your covering be over them and your hand of healing be upon them. May you raise up leaders within your kingdom that will be bold, brave and attentive to your leading. Lord, may your seeds of faith, hope and love bloom in this dark place. May your servants and Your word be the light in the darkness. Lord, I lift the mothers of Korah to your loving care. You created them, you know them by name. They are precious in your sight and you love them deeply. May they feel your warmth in the darkness and cold of their nights. May they feel your love in every waking moment. May they remember our visit there. May they remember our smiles, our embraces, kisses on the cheeks, and our prayers. May they know that everything that was given to them, their clothes, medicine, trips to the hospital, food, toys...it was all given in Your love. And finally Lord, please continue to show us how you want us to care for these precious people. Help us to be attentive to your spirit. Help us to continue running the race for your beloved people. With your strength and your leading we can accomplish much. Help us to think BIG and not to settle into resignation or complacency. We were meant to work together for hope.
Lord, thank you for your gift of a mother's love and thank you for each mother at Korah

Today is a difficult day. I just don't have the words today. I feel as though I am on a pendulum, swinging in and out of grief. My mind and heart cannot escape the realities which I witnessed. I know that it is not a burden to carry that is meant to weigh us down, but rather a burden that must be lifted to the One that can ably carry it. Today, I experienced the joy of proposing a little boy to a waiting adoptive family. The tears and joy that I heard gripped my heart. I felt so privileged to have had the opportunity to be a part of this family's journey. What a blessing when a family is built on the seeds of hope, faith, love and trust. God does listen to the desires of our hearts and fulfills our dreams. God answers prayers. There is no doubt. At the same time, my heart is grieving for those orphans whose eyes I can see gazing at me; for the hands that I can yet feel touching my skin....for the cries and whimpers that I can hear that leave me shaken. I remember the deep wailing cry of the mother who was told that she was very sick and that we could not help her. What do I do with that? I remember the tiny eyes of wonderment imprinted in in my heart, as I watched them blow bubbles or get a special toy from our "goody bags". How does one live with these memories? What do I do now? How do I help now? Lord, how do I pray? Today is a difficult day. I miss the ones I left behind, if only in the distance across the ocean. Today is a difficult day. I will go to bed with their smiles and love etched in my heart.

"Seesta"

"Seesta, Seesta, peecha!". These were the first words that I heard one day as I raised my camera to take a picture. If my camera hung untouched around my neck, then it was a different story. But,the minute my hands clutched on, all heads made a swift turn and all eyes gazed with anticipation. "Pleeze Seesta, peecha" Translation: Please Sister, take a picture! I wish that I could rally that same eagerness at Christmas time for picture taking. It's usually a sigh that I hear. I even catch myself avoiding the lens. Why? Maybe its the preoccupation that we can have with how we look, or don't look. Looking tired, feeling tired, older, big nose, small chin, grey hair, pudgey profile, skinny legs....whatever it is that we see in ourselves that we don't like, or like too much, that's what becomes our anxiety. Really, that's not what a picture is meant to be or the effect its meant to have. It's a memory, a reflection of our life, a snapshot of special moments, of memories imprinted for future reflection and appreciation. It's a view to who we were, what we did, what we hoped to become, and most importantly, who we loved. " Seesta, pleeze" says the little boy as he tugs at my shirt. "Yes, yes...a picture, of course!" The picture starts out with two friends embracing and is quickly filled with a multitude of eager participants. They all jump in pushing their way to the front. Smiles widen, embraces tighten and a few quickly adjust positions to offer their best poses. Then, a few more squeeze in. My LCD screen is full. Wow! The enthusiasm is riveting! I can't say that I've ever rushed in to be in a picture in this way. "Click" The smiles now take over and within moments, a rush to my side ensues to catch a first glimpse of the final product on my screen. As the picture comes up, it is obvious that this is a magical moment. With eyes wide open, the children are mesmerized by the image of themselves. "Kongo", I say to the girls. This means beautiful. They all burst into giggles as girls do. Then, an unexpected moment. A boy comes up to my side and captures my gaze. "Seesta, me Kongo?" "Yes, you are very Kongo", I say. He gives me a hug and puts his tiny hand in mine. My heart begins to swell, filled with a deep sense of his desire and need for affirmation and love. The girls want to know that they are beautiful and so do boys. We all do, no matter where we live and who we are. Then, as though I had walked among the group afresh, another wave of requests, " Seesta,Seesta, peecha, my friend is Kongo too." In those moments, many thoughts came to my mind and poured over my heart. This picture that I had taken was more than likely the very first time that these children had seen themselves. In this forgotten, poverty-stricken slum there were no mirrors. Even new rains did not bring clear reflections to the muddied puddles. There was no where for them to look and to say, "This is me, this is who I am. Imagine for a moment having lived your entire life, young or old, with no reflection of yourself, your identity misplaced or lost altogether. I thank God that it is His identity that He gives to these people and that no mirror is a substitute for His perfect image of love within us. At the same time, my heart grieves for the reflections of self that are sought after. I guess that's why God gives us the opportunity and gift of being His embassadors...for hope, for love and to convey His identity to others.

"A peecha" became a gift. I had no idea when I pulled out my camera that there was a gift to be given. At the time, I was thinking of how many images I wanted to capture on film, and even worried about whether I would have enough memory on my SD card to do it. I was humbly reminded that the gift was not mine to receive. It was to be given away.It was the gift of capturing self, beauty,friendship, community, love, and family....for those whose pictures I had taken. There would be more than enough memory....in just one picture for just one child at a time to feel filled with joy.

Vanity, insecurity, wondering who we are and whether we are enough, hiding from the lens...there is no room for that in a world that never gets to see itself and wishes that it could. And so now, I look at my pictures with a genuine affection and renewed understanding. I know that they will speak a thousand words and convey many sentiments. They will be a voice for the people that asked me to be theirs. They have given to those children that I spent time with and loved a reflection of who they are and how much God truly loves them. Oh how I wish I could hear those words again, "Seesta, Seesta, peecha pleeze!"

Monday morning.....the start to a new week. How I wish it were me and Monday morning in Ethiopia...getting in our van and going to Korah, the community where my heart resides. I am really going to have to gear myself up this morning to go to work. Or, perhaps, the opposite will be necessary. Gearing down, feeling the loss and grief of what I've left behind. The many faces and their smiles, their hopeful eyes, even in the midst of desperation and impoverished living, have left a very deep imprint in our lives. I remember that saying that comments on being a footprint on someone's life. Well, for me, as much as I had wished to be a footprint in the lives of my brothers and sisters in Ethiopia, I think that they have been the ones to leave the deepest footprint...in my life. I wondered yesterday as I went through my day, "How is it that I get to come home to comfort? How is it that I come home to a roof that doesn't leak? Why is it that my children have the privilege of school every single day, while the only hope of escaping destitution for the children of Korah, is to go to the school that they cannot afford? Why do I get to choose from a plethora of groceries at Costco, while they get to eat perhaps twice of week? And why did that baby, whose hand I kissed, who gave me that beautiful gurgle and smile, need to sit on that dilapidated bed, sweating and sick, while his brother of 2 years of age, lay on his way to death in a ratty old playpen....in a dark, dusty home? I remember his mother opening a plastic container, showing us what she fed her son....a greyish, slimey paste....not sure what it was, but certainly not anything that a child should eat. Oh Lord, get that family and the many others through their days. Give them protection, a covering of affection....from someone. Lord, please remind them, in some small way how much we love them, even at a distance. Please help them to remember that they are not forgotten, and that even though I will be at work today, my heart will be there, my prayers will be there and my vision for their healing and their journey out of the darkness will be very much on my mind and in my heart. The people of Korah are not forgotten. With your strength and your direction Lord, guide me in such a way that I can bring them a hope and a future.

Processing.....

My heart can't even process all that I have experienced. It is so hard for me to believe that I am sitting here at my desk 10,000 miles away from my beloved brother and sisters in Ethiopia. A few days ago, I was in and among the crowds of children and families, shaking hands, giving hugs and knit together in a community of love. My heart felt as though it was overflowing ...and as much as I wanted to be a blessing to others, the reality is that they were the ones that blessed me. They opened their hearts and their homes to us. They showed us their hope, their dreams and their love for each other. They showed us that nothing could overtake the joy of living, not even the pain of an empty stomach or living in a dark, dingy hut. They kissed our hands when we shook theirs, or when we offered help. Who were we to have our hands kissed with such immense gratitude? Who were we to be accepted and loved in this way? Perhaps they felt that one else would even bother to look at them and acknowledge their presence. I felt as though it was a privilege to extend my hand in love. Their sense of community and caring for each other was incredible. There was no "me, myself and I" to be seen. They are a people that live for each other. One man said that given the opportunity to come to North America, he would never take it. When asked why, he simply said, "Yes, there is great opportunity and wealth there. But, I would be leaving my people behind. In North America, people are very individualistic and I could never bear to be that way. I am part of a community here and my heart is to love my people, to care for my people. We must help eachother." Hmmm, how true it is that North Americans are focused on what is good for us....we certainly do think of others at times, but that is not our main objective as we go through our days. In Ethiopia, there is nothing done apart from community. I have to say that they have a richness that we will never comprehend or begin to attain, unless our minds and hearts are committed to putting others first. Being a servant....cherishing the value of community. These are two things of many that I experienced in Ethiopia and that convicted me further on how to live my life...not only more fully, but also with greater value and purpose.

Come take a walk with me

Come take a walk, please take my hand
Join in my life today
Come walk with me down cobbled paths
and be my hope I pray
I still don't know why I'm alone
or why my home is dark
But this I know, my joy is deep
My savior's left His mark
You've come to be my eyes and ears
You've come to be my feet
Just when I thought I was alone
My heart you've come to meet.
You've seen the sick, you've fed the poor
You've loved those no one sees
You've smiled, you've touched, you've given hope
Your love, oh how it frees.
And when you put us on your lap, when your hands caress
It opens the floodgates of God's love for us
and overshadows our duress.
It does not take away our plight, nor will all pain be gone
But this we know, your love is great
and this makes us all more strong.
And while what you've seen is far beyond what hearts can bear
Please know that your love for me has reached deep and far beyond compare.
Every step you've walked with me, every prayer you've said
Every smile, hug and kiss has made me feel well fed.
I can dare to dream, to hope, to know without a doubt
That my life is worth this walk, that God will take me out.
And now, as our journey ends down my cobbled path,
please remember to pray for me and please do come back.
I'll be waiting at the door, in my darkened space.
I'll be waiting for your touch, for this I'll run the race.
Your love, it has changed my world
You'll never know how much
Your love, it has made me whole
Thank you for my Father's touch.

UNIQUE...

Wow, I can't believe the kind of trip that this has been. I have seen SO much and have experienced SO much more poverty and sadness than last time. I haven't been able to put my experiences into words for most of the time, becaiuse its just so much to take in and then let out. I think that I'll have to take some time to do that. Who knows...maybe that book I've been wanting to write will finally be written. Yesterday, we spent the day at the leprosy community where 129,000 outcast people live. When I say outcast, I mean that they are not accepted by society here. Orthodox Christianity believes that they are cursed and that this is shown in their disease. I'm not sure what the locals think, but they are nonetheless forgotten and outcast. You only see them in the streets begging for food and money, tattered and torn, and lonely. Their only support is their own community...they only have eachother. They have missing feet, fingers, toes, completely disfigured faces....but such beautiful hearts. It's hard to believe that people can be treated this way within their own culture. It is very heartbreaking. We visited the leprosy hospital the other day, where they are treated (completely curable if caught at the right stage) Don't worry.....we can't catch leprosy. It is actually very difficult to catch. It is the very cramped and filthy conditions, day after day, that promotes it. When we would walk by waving at people, you could tell that they had never been visted by anyone outside the community. Many of them would start to cry because they just couldn't believe that anyone would care enough to come into their community. Most of the people there go to the garbage dump to get food. There are many children that live at the dump, fighting with other kids and animals for the food. It is appauling and unbelievable. They have no water, scraps of rotten food and there is nothing for them but filth and loneliness. I know that its hard to imagine for you (it was for me too), but it really does exist. They have no access to healthcare, although we were able to host a medical clinic yesterday for them. Mobs of people showed up with all conditions imaginable. The moms and children came in very sick, in rags, tattered, torn and many of them either looking completely desperate or weeping. We were within a compound that was gated with corrugated metal...children pryed the bottom edges of the sharp metal in an attempt to get in. There was such an immense crowd, that at times a man would emerge in the crowd to smack them away with a magazine or stick. This is crowd control and it is far worse in the city market, where security guards actually have large sticks and forcefully hit children that are begging for money or for you to buy anything that they are selling. Yesterday, at Korah (the leprosy community), the jagged streets were jammed with people the entire time. They pushed and heaved on the gates everytime they opened a crack. We tried to organize a line up, but that quickly fizzled out into a sea of desperate waiting people. While the medical team was attending to the needy crowd, a group of us blew up balloons, handed out small toys, decorated the tarp lined walls with hand made school cards and sang songs with the children. Matthea played the violin while children clapped loudly to her tunes. Eve had brought handmade school bags, that were filled with school supplies, toothbrushes and toys to give away to children that were attending school. There is a local school close by and some are sponsored by an American organization to get out of the community to get an education. We were told yesterday that the greatest thing for a child is to break out of this community, to boarding school preferably, to get an education. This is the only way that they will break out of the poverty cycle. If left at home, they witness atrocious acts. Child prostitution is rampant as well as domestic abuse and a host of other things that no person should have to endure. The children were desperate for the toys and balloons. Dollar store rings were the most popular items, with children trampling, kicking and pushing eachother to get them. At the same time, they were respectful when they got to the giver. They did not grab or demand anything. They just wanted something to call their own. Even when we were handing out clothes, there were women that wanted something else, essentially turning down what we had to offer. At first, it could be perceived as ungratefulness in our culture and one could think, " What? you have nothing..why wouldn't you want anything that we have to offer?" But really, as we processed it all, we realized that this was the first time in their life that they saw that they had a CHOICE. For the first time in their life, they had the opportunity to be themselves, to have an identity, to have a "style" or to express their individuality. So, we gave choices and hopefully, they felt that they could be specified as unique. No matter where...no matter how poor....each and every person is unique and entitled to feel it, show it and be loved and cared for in that very way...UNIQUE! Much love, Angie xo

Yesterday we had the privilege of visting the Mother Teresa House in Addis. The tall blue metal gates were punctuated with security guards on one side and poor young mothers and their half-naked babies on the other. The compound was very large, well organized, and clearly filled with hope, love and much care for all. The hallways and rooms were filled with beautiful people, all freely waving and smiling at us. Some sat there in the quiet of their afflictions, while others quickly jumped up to shake our hands or wave from the distant reaches of the large rooms. HIV, Tuberculosis, cancer, cerebral palsy, victims of beatings...the rooms were filled with sick people. Neatly made beds lined the large rooms. Without such a place these people would find themselves on the street, or worse off, dead and forgotten. What really stood out to me was the hope that filled the air. Painted walls, murals, patterned curtains all decorated the rooms. There was no dingyness, no darkenss, no despair within the suildings. An adoption and pediatric ward brought many of us to the melting point in our hearts as we met beautiful babies, swaddled in cozy blankets on their beds. Hanging from pediatric ceilings were colorful mobiles, with children laying in their beds staring up with wide eyes. Staff and volunteers roamed around with obvious affection for their patients and it was very clear that these people were not just there to fill a physical need, but also an emotional and spiritual need as well. We walked through the wards rubbing tummies, shaking hands and caressing cheeks of children . Some children were afflicted with cerebral palsy and other significant disorders. Others were simply too sick to move at all. But I can tell you that their eyes came alive with the warmth of our human touch. Their bodies may have been afflicted, but their hearts were fully alive and open. Volunteers are able to come from anywhere in the world and do not have to have any particular specialty. The only prerequisite is a willing heart. It's as I've said before....we are not measured by what we do or where we live or in what our resources are. We are only able to bless others when our hearts are fully open to serving and loving. Then, as we saw in Mother Teresa House...God does the rest. He guides hearts, He directs thoughts, He creates plans that are beyond our comprehension. He is extending His love and compassion through Mother Teresa House. We were so happy to see that the patients were fed well, that they participated in craft and game times and that they were evidently valued by those that cared for them. This is the core of human existence and need - to be known, to be acknowledged and to be loved....in a personal way. We ended our tour purchasing handmade bracelets made by patients. We wanted to support their hopes and dreams. I will never forget all the faces, the many handshakes and the beautiful smiles. What an incredible ministry. Mother Teresa House is a picture of hope and it reminds me that no matter how many destitute or orphaned people there are in this world, that we can reach out in love. We can care and we can impact the lives of others. There is no such thing as "no hope". There is no such thing as not reaching out because there is too much need. Every person matters, each and every one. Every day that we awake we have the opportunity to think beyond ourselves, to reach beyond ourselves and to bless others. As Mother Teresa once said, " There are no great things, only small things done with great love."

I am grateful that we were able to visit this incredible ministry. We will
be dropping off a hockey bag full of medical supplies there on Monday. It's funny to think that we were without our luggage for 8 days. In hindsight, the truth is that God had a very specific plan for that luggage. We have donated supplies to the Sululta Medical Clinic, the Leprosy community and to Mother Teresa House. There may even be more places for our "lost" luggage to go. Our anxieties over lost luggage became a blessing beyond our vision or comprehension. I can tell you that absolutely no one is wishing that it had been any different. Now that we have most of our bags,we're thinking that we can manage with alot less and give a whole lot more!

Finally on the internet

This has been a very challenging trip. I think that you know that we had a very bizarre experience at the clinic. I think that there is alot of political and administrative tension there and it has really affected the morale of the staff. They were very downcast and also very distant. I was very heart broken by this initially, especially after everything that has been poured into this trip. But, I've also realized that God brought me here for more than just the clinic. We've toured the leper colony and seen destitution beyond my wildest imagination. I actually can't believe that I've seen what I have and wonder how I will be able to process it all. At the same time, I am very much in my element, reaching out to people. These people are the outcasts of society and so when you look at them and smile, or shake their hand, they literally begin to cry. It is heart wrenching, but at the same time, i realize that God has plans for them with our coming there. Today, we took a very sick mom to the hospital who ended up having TB and HIV. We paid for her to go to the hospital and we know without a doubt that she would have died had we not showed up and taken her. On Saturday, we will go back to do a hygiene clinic, teaching them all about sanitation and also personal hygiene. Our team has developed a long term sustainable plan for this group of people; 130,000 of them! This plan will involve teaching, medical teaching, nutrition program, infant feeding program, rain collection, water bottle purification (remember that Al? We read it while at Dr. Welsh's office where you put dirty water in water bottles and have it sterilized by the sun on corrugated metal sheets? Well, there is plenty of metal here! There is so much for me to share, but I just about can't process it all or communicate it. I know that my mind and heart will be full and that it will take time. I also know that my heart is very much for continuing to serve the poor. I just can't get that out of my heart. I am looking forward to being home too and just taking it easy more. I can't wait to share my many stories. Today, we also toured the leprosy hospital founded by Dr. Paul Brandt. He wrote a book called, "The gift of pain" and I've heard its awesome. I saw people so disfigured and so very sick. It was very emotionally challenging. At the same time, I knew that our team is here to love those people and that brings me great joy.

We still don't have our luggage yet. I have lived with very little now and it must be so that I can more clearly sense what it is like to have less. I really do know that less is more. I am most disappointed that I don't have the 100 pounds of supplies that I had planned to hand out. But, we're all praying that they will arrive in time for us to give them out to the many at the leper colony. Today, we were putting stickers on the children's hands....and the smiles were the biggest that I've ever seen. It's like we need to live with nothing to understand the worth of something.

Well, I'd better go before I lose the connection again. I will write in the next couple of days. I don't have tons of time to email and there are alot of people at the Guest Home waiting for the computer.

Please pray for our luggage.....that there will be no further delays with our flights, since I heard that scientists were predicting another more dramatic eruption. I hope and pray that we will get home on our scheduled date. I miss you all and love you very much. By the way, just this morning, we found out that 8 out of 11 suitcases have arrived!

I hope that the internet will stay accesible. I have not been able to access my blog until today. Thank you for your prayers!! Angie

DAY ONE.....just starting out!

Well, the day has finally come. I am sitting in the Vancouver airport with my free wifi and Tim Hortons coffee. I have to say that I am looking forward to enjoying an Ethiopian coffee with my Sululta 2010 team. Some of us know eachother and others we do not know. I am excited for the new friendships that will be formed and the incredible experiences that we will share. I've heard that the clinic staff are eagerly awaiting our arrival. Well, hopefully the power and internet will be cooperative in Ethiopia and will be able to keep you posted. Angie

5 DAYS TO GO UNTIL OUT TEAM HEADS OFF TO SULULTA, ETHIOPIA.
I hope to share some of our experiences on the blog, if I get some time, so please check in! Angie

This ecard personalized with Smilebox

The Link below is about Dr. Rick Hodes, a US born doctor that went to Ethiopia in the 80's and never returned. He treats the poorest of the poor,often arranging for complex pediatric surgeries for deformity disorders. Many times, this is done out of his own money. Dr.Hodes is well known as the Father Teresa to Ethiopian children. His pediatric hospital is located in Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Our team will be visiting Dr.Hodes hospital while we are there. What a privilege to be in a place where one man truly believes and lives by the motto that "healing one person will heal the world." Dr.Hodes also believes that we can all be the change that we want to see in the world. That is a man after my own heart and I can't wait to go with our Hope International team on April 15th to be one of 10 people that will follow their hearts, give their all and make a difference..one person at a time. You know why? Because, it matters to that one! 30 days to our trip and eagerly counting!!
www.makingthecrookedstraight.org See the trailer on You tube!

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Whether here or abroad, we must stand for what we believe. Below, you'll find a letter that I wrote to the Minister of Education, Minister of Finance and Board of Trustees, as they consider the closure of my 2 young son's elementary school; a school that we've proudly been a part of for over 10 years! If we are to fight the good fight abroad, we must fight it at home as well. And whether we win or lose, at lease we will have been in the arena! Angie

Dear Honorable Ministers, Superintendants, and Board of Trustees,

It is with great pride that I write to you as a parent of the Dunach Elementary community of students, teachers and parents. Our family has been attending Dunach Elementary for 10 years, and it is without reservation that I present my case for Dunach’s continuance as a school.

Throughout the years, Dunach has modeled the very tenets expressed by The Honorable Steven L. Point, Lieutenant-Governor, in his Throne Speech of February 9, 2010. Yet, despite its excellence and unique character, Dunach Elementary is being considered for closure.

“There are fewer services that can do more to lift a child to the full opportunities of life than an unequivocally great education. That is our goal for all the children of British Columbia.” Honorable Steven L. Point, Lt.Gov. General

While it is clear that there must be a preservation and investment of capital in our educational system, it is clearly expressed in the Throne speech that such efforts “must be matched in our human capital if we are to secure and protect our grandchildren’s future.”

I am deeply saddened that while our government affirms that it stands by its commitment to strengthen families and children, that current accounting policy and management decisions actually mitigate and even take away such goals, rights and privileges for our children’s future. Lt. Governor Point asserts that “we cannot let accounting policy stand in the way of our student’s interests” or “hold back our” schools “from pursuing their unique areas of excellence in partnership with others.” Yet, the consideration for closure of Dunach Elementary represents such an obstacle.

We have been provided several facts and figures for Capital Plan costs. Much of the information was compiled from Facility Audit reports compiled in 2000 and 2004. This represents past data being used and creating a projection for current decisions. Enrollment numbers have been steady at Dunach for several years, yet the District has publicly expressed a present and projected downturn. Our Consultation process gives parents 9 days to review information presented and to compile submissions. Yet, not all information has been provided. While the Consultation Process may seem publicly collaborative, supportive and democratic, it is not. At a Parent Information evening hosted by School District #34 on February 9th, 2010, , School District staff said that various aspects of such plans were “in our best interests’” They were not speaking of student interests, they were speaking of their own, as duly noted and quoted.

The definition of consultation is, “a conference at which advice is given or views are exchanged; a meeting for deliberation, discussion, or decision. The definition of democracy is, “government by the people; a form of government in which the supreme power is vested in the people and exercised directly by them or by their elected agents under a free electoral system; a state of society characterized by formal equality of rights and privileges. I would like to ask whose vested interest is being expressed by this consultation process and potential closure; It is certainly not that of our children.

Dunach Elementary effectively meets the intellectual, physical, social and emotional needs of our children. The Consultation Process which has been begun by our School Districts focuses primarily on enrollment numbers and capital spending plans. The Throne speech again stresses that “ongoing financial discipline is essential.” While the closure of our community school might be considered one such discipline, it is more than apparent that there is a greater need that exists. Our government has a moral and social responsibility as well. It is clearly expressed in the Throne speech that “strengthening families is at the centre of our economic and social agenda.” There is no strength in removing a community school that is thriving academically and socially to attempt to consolidate resources. Closing schools is a short term solution to budget challenges. It is only a matter of time before other such constraints surface, requiring further closures.

The Throne speech highlights a desire to improve education in such a way that “will focus on the individual and unique needs of our children”. Also emphasized is the need for “emphasis on parental involvement and on tailoring our education system to each child’s individual needs, interests and passions.” These aspects have been part of Dunach’s core values and education for years.

Dunach Elementary is a heritage school with traditional values. It is a small community school with 124 students. While it is not a large capacity school, in terms of numbers, it has what larger schools cannot offer; individuality and a tight-knit community. In a recent education journal, the author comments. “Many teachers and researchers believe that school size is the single most important factor in the success of public schools.” Dunach has exhibited a steady enrollment for many years. 80% of its population is out of catchment. Families travel from Langley and Chilliwack to attend our school; a clear indication that it is very much a school of choice. Dunach families have clearly indicated in a recent poll that Dunach’s closure will not divert them to catchment schools, but rather to other choices such as private school or home schooling. In effect, the money that the District expects to save will represent a financial loss in the long run. Merging catchments may increase numbers, but it does not knit a community together. To have the privilege of being in a school where every child matters and is known personally truly exemplifies the true meaning of capacity. Capacity building in its most fundamental pursuit of excellence is not a financial term, but rather a term of character development and human potential.

Dunach Elementary upholds the beliefs of the Vision and Mission Statement of the School District in all capacities. Its core operating principles exemplify respect, trust, integrity, teamwork and communication. Dunach rivals many schools in its academic achievements. This is in large part due to the excellence, commitment and deep care that students receive from their teachers. Most importantly, Dunach students are not just learners of facts and concepts; they are mentored to be broad thinkers, capable of reaching out to others with a view to making a significant difference in our community and in our world.

If “new forms of schooling will be developed to provide greater choice and diversity, centered on students’ special interests and talents”, then I propose for submission that Dunach Elementary be given the option to become, Dunach Traditional School, housing Kindergarten to Grade 8. Such a consideration will provide opportunity to all for “greater choices and diversity”. Such a consideration will open the doors of enrollment to Dunach Elementary as well as that of the Traditional High School currently seeking increased registrations. As well, extending Dunach’s enrollment to Grade 8 will not compromise an already wait-listed Traditional Middle School. It will also provide further opportunities for the wait-listed Traditional Elementary School. Dunach has the physical capacity to support such a transition. As well, it has core foundations already established that are in keeping with the Traditional model. Dunach Elementary has an abundance of resources, including a plethora of competent, creative and dedicated teachers and staff. A Traditional model for our school would be consistent with our current models for excellence and opportunity.

Honorable Ministers, we need the Provincial Government to be our advocate and to provide the funding necessary to keep our community school alive. We need change and charge at higher levels for our children.

In view of a strong desire to showcase excellence in our province, I would ask that we follow the Olympic motto of “believing” that verbal commitments made to our families and children will also manifest themselves with continued support and solutions; both of which will keep Dunach Elementary viable as our school of choice. I respectfully request and submit for an extension of 1 (one) year to competently assess and provide further details of such a proposal.

I would like to believe that a new standard of decisions can be made. I would like to believe that new forms of schooling providing choice and diversity, while preserving our existing heritage and excellence, can be attained without the dissolution of our community school. I would like to believe that your support of Dunach Elementary will represent one such decision that upholds the best interests of our children, our community, and our future.

A Good Article About Future Haitian Adoptions

A Good Article About Future Haitian Adoptions

Haiti

I've been inundated with calls and emails at work with regards to the earthquake in Haiti and its massive amounts of calculated orphans...perhaps 380,000! I am the Haiti Adoption Worker for my agency. We will be having a Haiti Information Night at MEI Secondary at 7pm in Abbotsford on February 8th (Monday). There, we'll give an overview of why so many are responding with a desire to adopt, address the reality of this, the process of Haitian adoption, particularly in the midst of crisis. As well, we're going to have MCC, Food for the Hungry and Heart to Heart Missions there. They will share of their relief efforts on the ground in Haiti. Having them there will also give people an opportunity to contribute in other more immediate and tangible ways. Everyone wants to help and we want to help create awareness and education around this very crucial time. Our hearts are to do all that we can. Something that everyone must keep in mind is the need for Haitian people to seek reunification with their children. If that were you...and you were separated from your child, would you want them immediately deemed an orphan, and sent off to a foreign country for adoption? Or, would you want all reasonable efforts to be made to locate them, or have other family members be able to care for them in your place? This will take time. Yes, they are in crisis. Yes, some feel that they will run out of food and water. But, if the aid efforts begin to reach the people and those chidren can be sheltered and properly cared for, then this will allow the search for family member and their reunification to continue. Haiti will need time to rebuild itself. Haiti will need helpers and volunteers to help. If anyone feels that they want to contribute in this way, they can contact a relief organization to ask more questions. If people want to help feed and provide medical care for the people, again, they can contact one of the many organizations prepared to do so. Financial contributions will go a long way...prayers even further. So, as much as everyone wants to go in and rescue the children..bear in mind that it will take time to establish where things are at. Haiti is reluctant to let its children go without an attempt to find those families. Once gone...especially if having left someone behind (or thinking that they did) children and families will face grief, immense trauma, and a loss of culture and identity. It's important that we think of them FIRST and all of their challenges. There are so many. Please continue to pray for the people of Haiti. In the midst of their crisis...they continue to be beautiful people that need our love, our support however we can give it, our prayers, and our full understanding of what lies ahead.

The Kids Still There…..

The Kids Still There…..