by Heather Plett | Dec 16, 2006 | Uncategorized
There I was, sitting on the floor of my bedroom, surrounded by wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and a mountain of presents, and what was I doing? Crying. Go figure.
It started with the book I was wrapping for Maddie. Lighthouse by Robert Munsch. It’s the story of a little girl who’s lost her Grandpa. The first tears came when I realized how little the book will really mean to Maddie. She doesn’t remember her Grandpa. He died when she was only a year old.
And then, because I was crying anyway, I shed a few extra tears for the little girl who was in the basement playing with Julie. Remember T? She lost her mom a few months ago and is now living with her uncle because her dad is out of the picture. She was at our house for a sleepover. I sat there on the floor crying for her, because this will be such a different Christmas for her.
Over breakfast this morning, I asked what she’ll be doing for Christmas. “Well,” she said, “we normally open our presents in the morning, and then we go to my Grandma’s house.” And then her voice faded away because I’m sure she was remembering that she doesn’t have “normal” any more. This year, there will be a new normal, and who knows what that will look like?
I sat their crying because I feel so helpless to do anything for this little girl. I can’t give her her mother back. I can’t make Christmas happy. I can’t give her a safe and happy place to land. I feel so limited, when all I can do is give her a friendly home to visit now and then. And even as I give her that, as we sit around the breakfast table, I feel a little guilty because we have our whole family around the table.
Christmas isn’t just about joy. It’s about sadness too. It’s about loss and loneliness, and getting used to life without some of the people we love.
by Heather Plett | Dec 15, 2006 | Uncategorized
No, I’m not talking about Santa’s list. At this point, that’s the least of my worries. I’ve got way too many other lists to worry about right now – I’ve got no time to give the ol’ man in a red suit any thought.
I’m planning 2 very different trips in the next three weeks, and my brain is moving into operation overload. What needs to be done ahead of time? What needs to be packed? What errands do I still have to run? What do I have to organize for the people I’m responsible for? What am I forgetting to communicate? Okay, there’s just no way around it. Time to plug some organization into my normally disorganized brain. Yup, I’m makin’ lists.
First it’s the Christmas trip to visit family. Let’s see… what is there to think of? Gotta bring presents, clothes, sleeping bags, air mattress, stuff to entertain the kids in the car, that little magical machine that Marcel sleeps with that ensures both him AND I get a decent night’s sleep (it’s called a cpap machine – he’s got sleep apnea – if we forget that machine, the whole household won’t sleep for a week!), skates, a camera, and about a hundred other things that probably won’t fit in the trunk of the car. But first I have to finish the Christmas shopping, make sure the girls have appropriate clothes to wear at their Christmas concert, make sure there’s enough clean laundry for everyone to pack in their suitcases, attend a family Christmas party, and… oh I’ve got a headache already.
Then, a few days after our return, it will be time to pack for Ethiopia. Have I picked up my malaria pills yet? No. What about sunscreen? Nope. Packed gifts for our local hosts? Some. Bought extra memory cards for the camera? Yup – check that off the list. Oh but before I start packing there’s a press release to write, more coordination with the travel agent, an orientation with the team, a conference call with the Ethiopian consultant, money to be picked up… somebody give me something for this headache!
Ah, but don’t get me wrong – it’s all good. I’ve got so much to look forward to that the stress feels more than manageable. Once I get my lists made and I can start putting checkmarks beside things, I’ll feel much better. In the meantime, though, this blog will probably take low priority. Which, at this point, because Blogger is driving me crazy and won’t let me (or anyone else) comment in most places, may not be such a bad thing.
For all those people on whose blogs I TRIED to comment, you’ll just have to trust me that I’m still thinking of you. (Lucia, I’ve tried to tell you about three times that I hope you have a great trip!) And to those of you who sent me emails asking for an African postcard/blessing- THANKS! I look forward to the hunt for some interesting postcards.
For those who haven’t sent an email yet… there’s still time! I’m still in Canada (in relatively close proximity to a computer) until the end of the year.
by Heather Plett | Dec 12, 2006 | Uncategorized
Last week, I got home from a busy day of board meetings to discover that my painting from Andrea had arrived in the mail. Ahhhh. What a refreshing touch of magic in an otherwise long and draining day! I was blessed. By colour, wonder, friendship, creativity, and connection. I’d already received blessings by visiting Andrea’s blog, so this was a further blessing of her personal giftedness with a paintbrush. She can paint better than I could dream of painting. Now that it’s hanging on my wall, I let her art inspire the art in me. Thank you Andrea.
Last night, after another busy day at work, I arrived home to discover two more blessings had arrived in the mail. What fun! Nowadays, too much of the mail that arrives at our house is either junk mail (will the Christmas flyers NEVER stop?) or bills, so it’s a rare treat to receive something personal.
The first blessing was a Christmas card from Vicki and her family. She has a beautiful family – just the kind of people who look warm and comfortable and open. I think our family could spend a fun Saturday afternoon hanging out with their family, if the distance between us were less. I have been blessed by Vicki through her card, her blog, her emails, and her visits to my blog. Thank you Vicki.
The second blessing I received in the mail yesterday was a beautiful little blessing book from Jen Lemen. Something had touched her heart, and made her think of me. Instead of letting the feeling pass without lending it energy, she created a blessing book especially for me. Her words touched a special place in me that was open to her blessing. “You are being held in perfect love even now.” “Your strengths are a gift. Your talents are a blessing. Use them now to bring light where there was darkness, hope where fear once reigned.” I am grateful that she was open to the nudging of her muse and that she took the time to reach out to me. If you read her blog, you’ll soon realize that Jen has an uncanny ability to recognize the need in other people, speak directly to their hearts, and breathe words of wisdom and comfort into the dark or lonely spaces. Thanks Jen.
All of these little blessings in the last week have made me contemplate how I’m living out the call that I, like everyone else, have to share my giftedness by showering blessings on other people. Because I believe, deep in my heart, that all of us are meant to reach out and touch each other. We are all gifted with something – the ability to make art, the gift of encouragement, the wisdom to offer good counsel, the strength to challenge systems that hurt people, the ability to teach, the courage to stand up for marginalized people, the gift of humour to lift people up, the compassion to know when someone needs help, the ability to communicate so that other people feel less alone – and these things are meant to be shared.
Sometimes, we take these gifts for granted. We underestimate our own power to touch other people. We think our gift is not worthy, or we assume that someone else could do it better. We feel the nudging to share the blessing of our giftedness, and instead of taking action, we brush it off because it feels like too much of a risk. We deprive each other of the opportunity to be blessed because we limit ourselves by our pride or low self-esteem. Sometimes it’s because we’ve been hurt and we don’t want to risk getting hurt again. Sometimes it’s because we haven’t been raised to believe in our own worthiness. Sometimes we’ve told ourselves so often that our giftedness is without value that we start to believe it.
I am so glad that Jen, Vicki, and Andrea took the risks to send little pieces of themselves to me. I’m so glad they didn’t let the little voices of doubt stop them from blessing me.
I wish that I could say that I always follow up on the opportunities and inspirations I have to offer blessings. I don’t. I have lots of good intentions, but I let them pass with the wind. I hope though, that even though I don’t always get things in the mail (this year’s Christmas cards, for example) I have offered some blessing to you through the words I write on this blog. Because that is one giftedness that, after nearly 40 years of telling myself I’m not really good enough, I’m willing to own. I may not be able to paint, but I can write. And this is my covenant to you, dear reader, I will continue to share this gift with you, and I hope that you will be blessed.
And, here’s another offering of blessing… I have a few days of down time in Ethiopia next month. I’m willing to share a little blessing of Africa with you. If you will send me your mailing address (my email address can be found in my profile), I will take the time to hunt down some postcards and send one to everyone who takes the risk to ask for one. It’s possible that I won’t find postage until I return to familiar soil, but I will commit to getting them out sometime in January.
I know how much I have been blessed by the gifts in my mail. Now please offer me the opportunity to bless you.
by Heather Plett | Dec 10, 2006 | Uncategorized
1. In answer to some of the questions on the last post, I don’t expect to have much opportunity for posting while I am in Ethiopia. At the beginning and the end, I will be in a hotel in Addis Ababa, and there’s a chance there might be internet access there, but in between, we’ll be traveling to pretty remote sites. I expect we’ll be sleeping in mud huts, so the chance of electricity, let alone internet, is fairly slim. What I will do, however, is post my journals (and pictures) when I get home. I did the same last time I travelled, and if you’re interested, you can find it all in February/March 2005. And if you want to see my pictures from that trip, you can find them here (at the site I keep meaning to build – one of these days when I manage to find a 36 hour day).
2. Sorry I can’t bring any babies home. Joyce and Andrea’s requests reminded me about Matthew, the little boy I fell in love with in an orphanage in Tanzania. It may have had something to do with the fact that he shared a name with my stillborn son, but this child was truly irresistible. We played with the children under the tent in the backyard, took some of them swimming, and mostly got our hearts wrenched out of our chests. Most of these children had been orphaned because of AIDS and some of them had contracted the disease themselves. Matthew was one of the lucky ones – he tested negative.
Here he is modeling my sunglasses. I was happy to learn, after I returned home, that he was adopted by a Tanzanian family. You can read Matthew’s story here. Warning to all those who desperately want a little African baby in their homes, visiting the orphanage’s website can be hazardous to your health. I’m even wondering about the wisdom of letting my husband know where to find it, because he dreams of having a little African son like Matthew.
3. Just like the last time I was preparing to go to, I find myself poring over all things African. I was in a bookstore looking for the book Jen Lemen recommended, but couldn’t find it. I may need to order it. I also watched a great documentary called Black Gold that I would recommend to anyone interested in learning more about the coffee industry and the way it impacts coffee farmers in Ethiopia. It is appalling that the coffee that costs nearly three dollars at Starbucks (for one cup!) doesn’t provide enough income for the farmers to send their children to school, or even feed them sufficiently. There’s just something seriously wrong with this world when the rich countries send aid to poor countries, but won’t consider changing trade rules to protect them so that they can provide for themselves instead of relying on aid. Watch the movie, and you’ll be lining up at the fair trade coffee stores instead of Starbucks.
4. On an entirely unrelated note… Let this be a warning to you: DO NOT make Vicki’s Apple Cake recipe unless you have better willpower than me. If you make it, you will not be able to resist having seconds or even thirds. You will look for excuses to walk through the kitchen so you can nibble on the edges or run your finger along the side of the pan to lick the sauce. When you clear the table, you will have to muster all your willpower NOT to lick the dessert plates before putting them in the dishwasher. It’s just that good. And I think Whippersnapper would agree, because she helped me eat it. Only I wasn’t generous enough to send her home with any because, well, I wanted to hoarde it for myself. I may even hide the rest of it from my kids.
5. Today was an incredibly beautiful day here in the place others (who are disrespectful and don’t deserve to live in our beautiful city) call “Winterpeg”. So nice that I looked for excuses to walk to the store (or beyond). If I had one of those weather pixies like Hope, she would have been shedding the layers today and dancing in the sunshine.
6. I got my painting from Andrea this week. Yay! Being an art owner just makes me feel so happy, not to mention cultured and interesting! If I could, I would fill my home with art, and then I would spend hours just sitting and gazing at my lovely treasures.
by Heather Plett | Dec 8, 2006 | Uncategorized
In less than a month, I will stand, once again, on African soil. I will breathe deeply the scent of fragrant blossoms. I will lick the sweet nectar of mangoes from my fingers. I will embrace the people who welcome me. I will sit with stranger-friends and hear their stories. I will sleep on the rough earth and not even mind if goats or roosters keep me awake. I will marvel at the majesty of wild animals. I will let people touch me. I will walk through their fields and let them show me their harvests. I will let the tears flow when I see the needs. I will let the joy fill me when I see their compassion and grace. I will soak it all in and let my soul be moved.
Almost exactly two years ago, I started this blog because I was preparing for my first trip to Africa and I wanted a space to process my feelings and thoughts before that trip. My first post was called “Going to Africa” and in it, I said this:
I will listen and let them teach me. I will open my heart to the hope and the hurt. I will tread lightly on their soil and let the colours wash over me. I will allow the journey to stretch me and I will come back larger than before.
Now, two years later, I know that I did indeed come back larger than before. I was stretched beyond my expectation, and I fell in love with a place that I knew would draw me back. It’s hard to describe how a place like Africa moves me in ways I’ve never been moved by any other country. It got under my skin and into my heart. It becomes somewhat addictive.
How very, very lucky I am to be going back. I work for an incredible organization that supports food-related programming all over the world. I will be visiting 2 of those programs in Ethiopia. The amazing thing about traveling with an organization like ours is that we visi
t places that no tourist will ever see. We see the way people live in the remotest parts of the country where little if any “modernization” has touched them. We’ll visit a region where we’ve supported local efforts to build irrigation systems to grow better crops. While there, I hope to see Elizabeth again. She’s an incredible young Ethiopian woman (only 23 years old) who manages a large team of engineers and other labourers in the development of irrigation ditches and model farms. She is a powerful force for positive change in Ethiopia and I am in awe of her strength and wisdom.
This trip will have the added bonus that I get to enjoy the journey with an incredible travel companion. Steve Bell and his wife will be joining us, along with a small crew who will produce a video for us while we’re there. I’m very excited about this project. Steve is an amazing musician whose depth and wisdom shines through in his music. You may recall a post a few weeks ago after I attended his concert with the Symphony. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him over the past 2 years, and I know that his presence will make the journey even more exciting.
In the meantime though, there is much planning to do, and my mind is going a hundred places at once. Planning itineraries, booking flights, getting the necessary immunizations, writing story-boards for the video production, arranging conference calls for the team, etc., etc. On top of that, there are Christmas presents to be bought, the family Christmas trip to plan – oh, the list goes on and on. In a month, I will relax, eat injera and lentils, and let the sun warm my cold Canadian skin. But until then, I have to try to get everything done while remembering to live in the present, enjoy my kids, and let the wonder of Christmas fill me.
