Rwandan Family Aided by Vermont Community

When we were finally refused our adoption request in June of 2008, I knew I could either in that very moment of holding that dismal piece of official letterhead praise or curse God. I decided with a deep inhalation to say "thank you" and believe that miracles can occur in ways that hurt and ways that make us blissful. This refusal was a miracle showing us where a door was closed, where our child wasn't- not in Rwanda in June of 2008. I could have felt many things in addition to anger... guilt, shame, embarrassment after holding our own hands out to many in this community and then taking the money to travel all the way to Rwanda only to fail at achieving bringing home a child. "Thanks for the money... I had a great life-altering trip to Rwanda!" In fact, there were all the above feelings of course, but we focused on the acceptance and gratitude mostly. I knew that I went for a reason, and the truth is we assisted an entire family because of my trip at that particular time. To the family, I was an angel who came into a desperate situation and changed their lives forever.


While in Rwanda in 2008, a young Rwandese man named Happy befriended me and took me to the slums. Happy knew a family who was suffering greatly- a widow with five young children who lived in a "house" literally falling down around her. My blog entry about that woman, Clementine is here. In the time since meeting her, our family and other friends in this community and a dear friend in the Bahamas have successfully sent all her children to a good school, clothed them, helped her move twice and taught her to make jewelry. She lives now in a beautiful home in a good neighborhood and has a small store that she runs out of her front room. Her neighbors are supplied with fuel, grains, soap, and other various staples and she is able to pay for rent and food on her own!

She still struggles as many Rwandese do to supply everything needed for her children. In an effort to keep supporting her, I asked her to make as much jewelry as she could in the days I was there. On the day we left Rwanda, Clementine brought the jewelry to me and I now have the task of selling it for a better price than she could receive for it in Kigali...

Joyeuse before and after our assistance
... isn't she beautiful?

Mama Clementine could not wait to get Ariah into her arms. The walk to Clementine's place was about 15 minutes, finally taking us between homes and gardens, laundry lines and privy's. As we we approached Clementine's, people were yelling to each other, to the family, that we were coming. Clementine ran up to Ariah, gasped, covered her mouth with her hand, began to cry and then grabbed Ariah up and held her on her hip. She hugged Ariah and wouldn't let go and for the long while where her eyes were closed, I imagined that Clementine perceived this beautiful 7 year old American as her life-saver. The one who changed the lives of her entire family. Of course others helped, but I don't know what Clementine knows about the people that helped to change her life and the lives of her kids. I just know that she was grateful beyond words to Ariah.

Ariah had brought along some necklaces of her own to give to the kids. One got given to a neighbor girl rather than Clementine's child. It was definitely overwhelming to be in a sea of kids who all wanted to touch Ariah and us as well, and not obvious which ones were Clementine's kids at first. (The boy in the green and baby on photo right are Clementine's.)


The little girls on photo left and right below are Clementine's kids. The one in the pink next to Ariah never left her side or let go of her hand.


The same two children last year when I visited their home...

Clementine's new home! In a great location with cement floors!

Her store supplies are on the left of the photo, but she uses the front room as a sales location as well. In time, with some additional money raised, Clementine and my friend Happy will build a shed type cupboard to enclose the supplies from the elements.

Clementine before our help in the photo below- she was so worried and sad when I met her, just hopeless and helpless. When we saw her this time, she was happy and even had bulked up substantially since they now have food for their bellies!

Many people have woven a web that has sent us to Rwanda twice now. Each time, we were able to touch other people as well as ourselves and we hope to continue the support of this mom and family as well as the orphanage and others. I offer this blog as a tangible way to say thank you to each and every one of you who have helped along the way. You have indeed shifted many lives with your love and compassion. Should you desire to contribute financially or in any other way to the continuation of support to this family, please let me know at jayasun@vermontel.net.

PICTURES FOR YOU

Meeting Nola for the first time


Pretty proud I learned to carry him african style


With our dear neighbors


Pacifique with his Great Grandfather age 91



Ariah and Pacifique



cabbage head

Housekeeping (not the kind you will rag on me for)

This entry doesn't count as real writing; I have had on my to-do list "Blog Entry" for weeks now and I just never get to it. I guess there is nothing pressing and I don't feel obligated to write, and hanging with the kiddos is taking all my time or something. That and I clearly don't know what to write about now that we're home. Anyway, do stay tuned for some re-vamping, maybe add a playlist or something as well as post pics from Rwanda. Coming soon...

But for now, two things: 1) If you sign in as "anonymous" and neglect to sign your post (nearly everyone last post) I have no clue who you are. Maybe you want it that way, but this blog thing certainly seems personal enough on my end (I think I've shared deeply intimate stuff with you) that it warrants you signing your names to any comments. 2) Either I am a crappy writer and failed to get my point across or something... My post about when do I give up entirely was not about me wanting a spotless home above all else. It was not about me valuing cleanliness more than the precious moments of childlike joy. It was not about me not feeling thankful. Heck, it wasn;t even about what the kids will remember... really.

It was about the in and out of my days. It was about the "if you give a mouse a cookie" syndrome of motherhood and the struggle a meager homemaker and housewife and mother has... the ongoing attempts to "do better" or "do more" or "at least get dinner on the table" that in my case, anyway, are typically met with failure by the end of a day. That attempt to finally once and for all get the entire house vacuumed rather than the move-the-vacuum-around-all-week-from-room-to-room running behind. The futile attempt of course.

Can't I be grateful for the miracle of my family and also be struggling as a mother and housewife and homemaker? Give up entirely? Really? Are there really those of you out there who give up on it entirely? Wait... don't answer that. I cannot imagine. No, you must struggle as I do to get it all done- the homeschooling, the fun, the snuggling, the nurturing, the cooking, the errands, the spontaneous wrestling, the cooking, the communicating with your spouse, the family meetings, the gardening, the cleaning, the cooking, the laundry... the alone time where we as moms take care of our precious selves... oh, and earn some supplemental income too. I can't imagine letting any part of it go entirely.

No, don't you fret. I am not missing the important things in life. I know how important each moment is, that is a lesson not lost on a mother who has buried the future of her beloved child. I do not miss the importance of children and their joy- after all, I have searched the world over for our child and brought him home. In fact, I get it. Look at the pictures on that blog entry. Look at the faces of the children. I get it. Really.

But I struggle to do it all like so many moms do.

Over and out. Stay tuned. Rwanda pics to come.

When Do I Just Give Up?

I am stuck in the never-ending cycle of thinking I can get the house clean, organized, and well... peaceful. It goes like this: Evening time and I am looking at the house trashed from the day and I think, "Tomorrow I will really bust my ass and get this house whipped into shape! I will even make a nice dinner. Finish the laundry, get the accounting done and bills paid, follow up and the odds and ends of the adoption." I go to sleep and try my darndest in the morning. I make good progress despite the fact that the phone rings off the hook and my mom tells me more stuff than I had imagined when I call to ask a simple question about the company picnic. Around 11:00am I realize that I am not making such good time as I had hoped, am behind already in my prediction of just how much I can get done in one day, but Scott reminds me that there is still day left... except that I need to think about making dinner NOW because dinner can be a major production with everything else going on around here interrupting things. If I need something out of the freezer I should have done that last night so it would be thawed. So nevermind the freezer.. wish FlyLady had sent a reminder about that. Hmmm... peer in the fridge... nothing obvious, might as well wait till later. Lunch time for the kids. Today Ariah invited a friend over so she could be occupied while I worked. I even had a whole list together and resolve to do it! So... lunch... by now I have caught on that the girls have converted the almost clean living room into an American Girl hide-a-way.



Then I eat lunch myself, sitting amongst the dirty dishes left on the table by the girls, feed Pacifique and encourage the girls outside. They skip the bathing suits and sprinkler and head for the plethora of blackberries instead; they are on a mission to make soup. A while later, they are lugging the house furniture out to the front yard. Gawdzukes... my June Cleaver plan is unraveling! They are looking for paper, and finding the rolls of tape. The kitchen becomes a large scale STICKY (think lots of honey to sweeten their "soup") disaster and my hopes for a clean house and peaceful dinner go outside with the table and chairs.



I am quickly becoming June With A Cleaver! Turns out they have decided to have a sale of their blackberry and now mint echinacea soup in the front yard. Ariah's friend apparently can't do this so easily where she lives off the beaten path in the hills. We are in town, almost at the crossroads, so we get a bit of traffic here and the girls look like ants going back and forth from front yard to house to gather supplies.



They set the price and it is not priced to sell, I'll tell you. Judging the size of the miniature shot glasses they have lined up at the front of the table, and wondering how much dirt is in the "soup" I cringe and resolve to hide in the bushes so I am not regarded as anywhere near involved with the sale. With time, they manage to sell thru the soup and head for the kitchen to raid the organic lemon juice supply and more and more lemonade is made. Scott has returned from his errands and gives them appropriate plastic cups. At some point, they discover that holding Pacifique up to the road along with their lemonade sign really attracts the customers. In the end, they have a blast and make a huge profit.



So now Scott is cooking dinner, the kids are counting their loot, and I am blogging while Pacifique fusses on the floor in the other room. The office desk is a complete mess and I am finding myself with my hopes for today dashed but planning how to correct this insanity tomorrow. After all, it is a new day. Right?