As Joe & I flew over Chicago on our way to our Wisco-home from Haiti, I was hard struck by the innumerable displays of electricity and infrastructure below. The roads were boiling over with perfectly organized chaos, & almost as far as I could see the city was sparkling. The reflection of the lights on Lake Michigan lit up the dark night sky. As tears began to fill up and pour from my eyes my mind was held captive by the injustice of it all. Most of our friends and family in Haiti live without access to electricity, they don’t have enough to eat, they don’t have clean water to drink, they can’t afford to send their children to school & they surely will never glide through fluffy clouds & ride the starry darkness in a giant metal eagle. I couldn’t stop the snot from dripping from my nose & it took all of the strength I could muster up to keep myself from turning into a blubbering fool in my highly coveted exit row seat. My thoughts were racing as I thought about the day our family moves back to Wisconsin and the ache that will happen every step of the way. If tears really did stain your cheeks, mine would be forever dyed from that flight. I couldn’t believe how many perfectly groomed baseball fields we flew over. As I counted them I was immediately taken to the field around the corner from our Haiti home where the kids play soccer with bloodied, shoeless feet. Do we even appreciate an ounce of the abundance found in America? Do we know just how lovely our roads are from above and right on top? I had a bird’s eye view of our plenty and I was broken over it. The lights, they were too much for me. In America we pay our bill, the lights stay on. All of the time.
As my gazed was fixed on the view to my right, over and over again I wiped the tears from my eyes & the slime from my face. I kept my eyes planted and there was no way I would risk looking left. I couldn’t imagine how I would explain to the flight attendant when she asked me if I wanted water why I couldn’t even speak through the fire hose coming out of my eyeballs. “Oh, it’s just that the lights are so beautiful. There are so many of them.” I am sure I wouldn’t seem like a lunatic at all. As I vacillated between gratitude and frustration I felt injustice rising up in me once more. It seems it’s become a regular part of my existence these days. I watched Chicago fly by and just as I thought I was going to let out the world’s biggest blubber I hear “They are all tiny glimmers of hope, Sami.”
Tiny glimmers of hope. Each mini twinkle standing for a person, a place, an opportunity.
So, I am back to prototypes and prayer. Websites, play-dough, concrete molds, coconut scrubs, pet supplies, books, tapestries & tees. Dreaming for Nomom Co and creating beautiful things is where you will find me. I will be in the moment.... pondering the tiny glimmers of hope that are out there waiting to be seen.
Each one reminding me that there is hope.
Tiny glimmers of hope.