Slaves Today

Human beings are not property. ~ Kofi Annan

Last night’s supper for trafficked women made me think of a project that I did on the topic when I was in university. It was really eye opening for me. I cannot even begin to describe the horrors that women and children face in the modern-day slave trade. I went on to read more about the issue and to attend the odd event that took place.

I think next year, I should buy a table at the dinner so that my friends could join me and also be enlightened. The topic still does not receive enough attention. Most people think that it is something that happens “over there” like in Thailand and don’t relate it to their own city. Winnipeg has lots of missing women and children. How many were turned into prostitutes will never be known.

One of the requests last night was to pray about the situation and to become more educated on it. I remember when I had a conversation about this topic with women they knew about domestic slaves, mail order brides, prostitutes, and the like, but they never stopped to consider the slaves of the garment factory. What label are you wearing on your clothes and where were they made?

When I was in East DR Congo the women in the picture were learning a trade so that they could be self-sufficient and not have to sell themselves on the street. Half of the world has no idea how the other half lives.

I do think there comes a time when we need to do a little research so that we know we are not assisting a crime in progress. We cannot turn a blind eye. Women and children are vulnerable. The stories of trafficked women and children are heart wrenching. They need every person who can help them in whatever ways necessary to leave the trade and to start a new life. Natasha’s Home will allow some of them to do this. Check out http://www.unanima-international.org/eng/what-we-do/campaigns/stop-the-demand to learn more about the issue. Listen to Keith MacPherson’s sing Firefly. Think about what you can do to stop the demand. Everyone deserves to live in freedom.

Peace,

Suzanne

Missed the First One!

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Ack!! I have technically missed my first blog day. It is late here and after a long and fun day, I am posting anyway, and hoping that I won’t berate myself too much for not getting this done before the witching hour.

I have had a great evening. I went to a fundraiser dinner after work for Natasha’s Home, which is a safe haven for women who have been trafficked. The food was fantastic, the entertainment excellent and the mingling fun. The educational component was also beneficial.

From there I dropped off one friend and picked up another so that we could go to a wedding social for one of our colleagues. At 1:00, we realized we had both overstayed but I was having a great time there too just running into people I had not seen for some time.

Anyway, it is very late and I do need to get to bed. It is a busy day tomorrow.

Peace,

Suzanne

Unbirthdays

Let's all congratulate us with another cup of tea
A very merry unbirthday to me
~ Lewis Carrol

What happens when a birthday ceases to be? I suppose one can still celebrate the person who should be having a birthday…raise a cup of tea or glass of wine or eat cheesecake regardless, wouldn’t you agree?

Today was my friend Rob’s birthday. Rob died from cancer several years ago now. That is not how I have remembered him today. No, it is not those last pictures that are etched in my mind that bring life to him still. Instead it is those instances when Rob was in his glory—usually on a lake in the middle of nowhere, or whipping up some extravagant meal over a bonfire, or with a hammer in his hand on top of a house in varied stages of being built. This was the Rob that we grew to love and that we remember on days like today.

I knew Rob for almost two decades. I knew him as a single guy. I knew him through both of his marriages. I knew him as a divorced man. I knew him when he worked for Habitat and when he worked for a small firm. I knew him when he was unemployed. I knew Rob—in all kinds of wonderful ways. I usually knew him as part of a group of people and later I knew him as part of a foursome. We spent a lot of time together at the home of our mutual friends, Lar and Lor. When I remember Rob today, I remember his faithfulness to his friends, his commitment to his family and his wife, and his volunteer work for HFH, L’Arche, and other organizations. I remember long walks and good talks. Well, sometimes…there were the long walks without talks that he and Lar would do while Lor and I would amble along, chatting incessantly. Then they would have to wait for us to catch up.

So tonight, even though Rob is not turning a year older, I raise a glass in his memory and am grateful for the gift of his life to so many of us. Happy Unbirthday! You are missed.

Peace,

Suzanne

Who has that much time?

Warning: the Internet may contain traces of nuts. ~Author Unknown

I noticed a little while ago that my followers disappeared on my blog. When I checked my other blog, they had gone too. When I clicked on followers, none of my friends were there. Instead only someone called UGotCrossedSon is my friend. Phooey!!! Some people have way too much time on their hand. Why would someone take the time to erase my friends? Sad, really.

Anyway, if anyone has any advice, post a comment. Otherwise, could some of you try to follow again and see what happens? I am hoping it is not a virus though. Ack!! Who really has that much time to be so mean?

I posted something on the bloggers helpline and maybe someone can help me.

I think I need a little of my own sign off tonight….peace.

Peace,

Suzanne

Let Your Life Speak

May the Lord keep you until the word of your life is fully spoken. ~ Louise Smendziuk

It is late and I cannot find my Cuba photos where my friend Louise and I shared a room. I may have to post that later when I have time to look for them.

My friend Louise died a year ago today. I sent her daughter an email this morning and she responded back with, “Thanks for thinking of us. I’m sure the sunshine today is her way of shining down on us.” Today was sunny and warm…just like Louise.

I first met Louise when I was in my early 20’s. She was the nurse at the school for the Deaf. Later I would come to know her as a fellow parishioner where she would help pave the way for me in many ministries, inviting me to join her in various activities. She was such a cheerleader.

When she found out I was going to Cuba with the church, she called and asked if she could be one of my roommates. I was delighted. We had such fun. She was a great storyteller and could entertain me for hours with her tales. We created a few of our own memorable moments there. I felt deeply loved by her and yet at the same time, I knew she had a heart big enough to love many of us. She embraced so many women.

Four of us got together fairly regularly for a few years now—women of all ages, spanning a few decades I am sure. One of our last suppers was to celebrate the marriage of the youngest member of the quartet. What great fun we always had when we broke bread together.

Louise called me two years ago and asked if I might bring her Eucharist since she could not attend church. For almost a year, I would arrive at her home, watch her deteriorate with the treatments, and then, hopefully, saw her begin to recover. She was able to go out and attend some functions, play bridge with her friends again, and tell tales about her family. In the beginning, I often had to waken her when I arrived but then she was able to respond heartily and engage in deep conversations as she got well again. She was so deeply grateful to receive the Eucharist which sustained her on this challenging journey. She even served me lunch a few times. All these moments were precious. When she got sick again, we did not discuss it. I could tell she did not want to. She was so private about her illness.

What I did get a glimpse of in those visits was that her life was fully spoken, despite her premature departure. She lived fully and completely. She had lots left to give and receive but she faced death without fear. In the journey of less than a year, I saw some changes in her as she let go of things that annoy most of us. She was downsizing not only her possessions but also her soul, emptying it of all the things she no longer needed in order to move to her final resting place. That was a gift. Sometimes when I think about our visits I long to make those changes in my own life now. It takes great courage to purge one’s inner most being but Louise did it with such grace. She is deeply missed by many people beyond her family and closest friends. She left a huge void but I am grateful for the time we shared here. Will you choose to let your life speak so that you will be deeply missed too?

Peace,

Suzanne

Signs of the Times

Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world. ~ Virgil Kraft

I was rushing because I was late to meet a colleague today but when I saw it, I stopped. Ah, there was a sure sign of spring! The splash of colour against the grey bark caught my eye. I had seen a robin a day or so ago, and loads of geese, but not yet a butterfly. I pulled back into my parking space and grabbed my Blackberry to take a photo of it.

We can miss so much when we hurry or are not attentive. Sometimes it is the obvious; oftentimes it is subtler. Today was Day 4 of the long weekend for me. I felt as if something shifted inside and that time had slowed down. I got up later than normal and went to mass where I ran into a friend. We chatted for a bit—a good and intense conversation that was overdue. That made me late for the other appointment but once I got to the University, I also lingered, engaging in good conversation with my colleague who I wish I knew better. I like how she thinks. She laughed at a story that happened to me recently and we both rolled our eyes at how people do not understand our role as an interpreter.

From there I went on a mission to find something, which turned out unsuccessful. I gave up and went to my massage which was just what the doctor ordered. It was a nice break in the middle of what was turning out to be a hectic day. When I stepped out of the spa, I breathed deeply. Something had shifted while I lay on the table. I was able to slow down mentally. I felt the warm sun wash over me and I thought of that little creature on the tree, wishing that I had been able to just soak in the sun today.

Back to work tomorrow! It is supposed to be a glorious 21 degrees, another sure sign of spring.

Peace,

Suzanne

The Best Kept Secret

We are an Alleluia people. We are the people of the Lamb, indeed. We are also the followers of the Light that shines beyond the grave. ~ Joan Chittister

I sometimes think that the Catholic Church has one of the best-kept secrets from its people. Growing up, we may have worn our best outfits and our Easter bonnets, but the Vigil was not part of our tradition. The Easter Vigil is one of the richest liturgies that I attend. I first went about 25 years ago. My Catholic boyfriend at the time invited me. When he came to pick me up, he looked at my blue jeans and told me to go change. This was a party and a dress up event. What did I know then? It became one of the greatest gifts of our relationship. I cannot imagine Easter without the Vigil.

I have fond memories of Easter spent around the world. I remember Easter cantatas with my friend Janet in Iowa, flying kites with Kathy in Kenya, a three-hour vigil at an amazing church in Washington, and beautiful sunrise services here. I remember the odd Easter service in a little village church in Kitui, Kenya. The message was not so much about Christ’s rising but about the thief who would break in and steal your possessions. The preacher led the congregation on a wild journey as he pretended to break into a house and stealthily go from room to room. At one point he gave a shout out to the two white women at the back of the church. Kathy and I tried not to look at each other. We celebrated Christ’s rising later by flying kites.

St. Augustine in DC knew how to do a Vigil well. There were many baptisms, all by immersions. I can still see the face of one young woman who was wide-eyed. She came out of the waters of the font with such great joy. Then Boomer sang an amazing song that had the church up and dancing in a frenzied state. Christ had indeed risen. The mass went on for three solid hours but no one cared, as it was the most amazing experience that had finally arrived after the precious Holy Triduum journey. Afterwards, in the wee hours of the morning, the community gathered to share a feast. I cannot remember what exactly but I do remember a delicious Caesar salad and champagne. I think the main course was quiche.

From there it was home to sleep for two hours before arising to go to the sunrise service. It was my first Easter with crocuses. We were in a clearing in a wooded area in the neighbourhood of Columbia Heights. It was such a joy. Church was not yet done though as most of us made our way to the morning service at Sojourners. There I prayed for my dad who I had spoken to the night before and the words that came out of my mouth surprised me. I did not know that at nearly that exact moment he was having chest pains and would soon end up in ICU. Community members later told me how that prayer seemed so strong and urgent, the Spirit speaking the words that needed to be said.

From there I went hiking with my roommate Susanne, unreachable by my family who tried throughout the morning to reach me. It was late afternoon when we finally arrived back at the Perch, our home, and I returned my brother’s calls. That Easter scare had a happy ending. I flew home and Dad was released from hospital.

Last night at St. Ignatius, five people were baptized and three confirmed. One was a man in his seventies, I am sure. That was a delight to my heart to witness someone who at last came to know Christ and wished to be his official child. We sang the Alleluia, lit candles and broke bread, restoring the church to its fullness after the barrenness of the Triduum. Easter had arrived and the joy and hope that quietly whispered our names over these past three days broke through. We are an Alleluia people. We belong to the Good Shepherd, the people of the Lamb slain for us. Christ is Risen! Truly He is Risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Happy Easter, Everyone!

Peace,

Suzanne