too much, too many

For the longest time I did not know.
I worked late last Tuesday night. No TV played at my house. Straight to bed. Read. Sleep

Yoga from a CD the next day. Early morning neighborhood walk. A phone call to my mom.

"Do you remember when your daddy and I went to Chile?" my mom asked straight away.

"No, " I answered. "I do not think you did."

"Oh, yes," she insisted patiently." Remember, I told you it was so sad and poor?"

What did it matter really if she did or not? I dropped it and we moved on.
She never once mentioned the news.

My day off was filled with cleaning, decluttering and pastel~play.

Near the end of the day I went out for my mammogram appointment.
Me, taking care of normal business.

In the waiting room a muted plasma screen showed horrific footage. I could not watch at first.

Then I had to know.
It was Haiti, the morning after the earthquake that had skipped my non-newsy life.

My mom and dad had been to Haiti about 20 or 25 years ago. Haiti. Not Chile.

How could I  not know about the 7.0 earthquake for almost 20 hours?

In the big scheme of things my home seems close to Haiti.
I think I should have felt something.
A shudder. Something. But I did not.

I do not know about you but I do not know a thing about earthquakes.
Not a thimble of information about earthquakes lives in my memory bank.

I was born and raised on hurricanes that can take a week or longer to reach my house.

Hurricanes will swirl and grow and churn the sea for days before approaching my neighborhood. Sometimes they will stay a tropical storm and skirt my life or maybe take a right turn and head on out to deep waters.

A person can go north, if they want, and inland, or hunker down. Or both.
Most folks have time to plan their escape.

Kissing~cousins, maybe. An earthquake and a hurricane. But not brothers.

Looking around now, feeling introspective, I see I have too much stuff, for sure. {{ A fact I have known for some time. }}

I am overwhelmed by my good fortune.
I practice from the church of buy~one, get~one.  Home of the 50% off coupon. I nose around the after~holiday~specials. A bargain will call my name until I do listen.

Now, I feel I have too much stuff while so many have nothing.

I have too many fluffy clean towels standing at the ready, waiting.
Too many scented candles burning bright.
Too many pink~striped socks folded neatly in a drawer.
Too many fairy~tale books line my shelves, the ones where a frog~prince saves the day.

I cannot help myself from gentle, good finds and they are lovingly used.

I have too much and now others are asking for help for those too many who have nothing.

I am bombarded with opportunities to give to Haiti. Handsome movies stars, doom-topped churches and every organization with more than 3 members have approached me about giving to Haiti.

I do not mean to brag when I  say that I have given my small part.
I know you have, too.
How could we not?

But what do I simply l o n g to do,  would rather do, really?

First, I want to pack a bag and fill it to the top with Dove and Joy and Cheer and head south to Haiti. I want to help clean things up. I am not a fairy~princess who can spin flax into gold but I do know a thing about turning ciaos into order.

Next, I want to grab an armful of Haitian children and bring them home to my house. I want to feed them and plop them into a warm, bubbly bath and then use up all my fluffy clean towels. I want to light scented candles and tell them life will be better. I want to share my pink~striped socks. I want to cuddle up and read story after story of fairy~tales where where a frog~prince, or a frog~princess, saves the day.

Well, that is not going to happen.

 

You know you want to do the same thing.

Even as my aching heart is melting from the grief, I can see from way over here that yours is doing the same thing over there.

I feel so sad and poor that I cannot do more. But do know this:  There are frog~princess and frog~princesses saving the day at this moment. They are giving it their best shot.

Every small bit we give can send Dove and Joy and Cheer and more.
We can do more than light candles.
I feel certain.

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UPDATE: My orthopedic surgeon, the one that fixed my runner's knee 2 summers ago so that I might climb here, is on his way now to Haiti to volunteer his services. I cannot even bare to think what he will find there but I send prayers so that he might have a strong heart and restful nights. Please, do send out one yourself, now. I thank you for it.  spf
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Comments

[elizabeth bunsen]

I am ready
to join your crew
so many with so much
so many who need our hearts
breaking open

it hurts spf

and such beauty...

xox - eb.

[grrl+dog]

Dove is a chocolate here...

Nourishing, soothing and comforting,. kinda like the same thing, I guess.

[Art Tea Life]

Thank You.

[rivergardenstudio]

your words are so moving here and the colors in your candelight. Such a sad disaster. Making us hurt for the gentle people of Haiti. roxanne

[tinker]

I know, SPF, I know - those photos, I can't look at them without wanting to bring every single one of those children here...though I remind myself they might still be at risk of an earthquake here, but hopefully ours will stay only little ones. oh how my heart leapt to my throat, and my mind turned to thoughts of them, when we had a small 4.3 last week. Seven! Lord. It's unimaginable... We're giving what we can - and we may need to KEEP ON giving what we can for awhile...Six something's as big as I've been through and that was bad enough - 7 is a hundred times that - so I can only imagine, all the Dove and the Joy and the Cheer, and the time, it's going to take to heal... Sending all of them - and your good doctor - good thoughts and prayers for them all.

[gemma]

All those candles do help a lot too. The prayers that are said when they are lit send special strength to those who need it.
I do believe they help.
love you
xx