I can't sleep…
Notes:
“Why didn’t you adopt a child?”
“We pursued it, certainly. And twice came close—people gave us baby clothes, the bed with sides, we bought den lille shoes. But both times fell to pieces. A mother can change her mind, you see? But to come so near—and then not. The disappointment is extravagant.” This he stated in a flattened voice like a wall built hastily to conceal ruins.
~ Leif Enger, Virgil Wander (Atlantic Monthly Press, October 2, 2018)
Notes:
In September, 2007, Mary-Louise Parker adopted a child from an orphanage in Ethiopia. The child’s Uncle walked a distance that Parker stated she would complain if she had to travel to in a car. The journey was made with his children, three of which were under 10. The baby was carried on his hip. This excerpt is from a letter written by Parker (“Dear Uncle“) as a tribute to him. In their first meeting, he said: “I hope that she will be taken care of, go to school and perhaps one day be something, a doctor.”
There are so many reductive adjectives used to describe those materially less fortunate, words the privileged use to anoint them. Words like proud, or graceful…It never rings true. Having seen what I saw when you brought me to the hut where my daughter was born, and introduced me to the people in your village, I felt like I was hovering over every judgment of my reality and yours, unable to land. None of the families I met were intact, everyone had lost children, parents, or a spouse. There was not enough of anything for anyone. The only bounty was in categories of suffering or possible ways to die. I didn’t feel them looking at me with distance, they all smiled and shook my hand.
I hid my embarrassment at how stupid I felt when I entered your hut and was alarmed by the darkness that swallowed me despite it being late morning. Of course I knew there was no electricity, no light would be there except for what might creep in through that ceiling of straw. I knew it, but I couldn’t fathom it until I stood inside with you and stared at an actual nothingness and my eyes adjusted to near black. There is nothing, and there is not one bloody thing. As you pointed at different parts of the hut that were designated for the cows to sleep, or the spot where your family of twelve eats when there is food, or where you slept, I saw spots with absolutely nothing in them. There was an absence of comment on your situation that made you seem twenty feet tall. It’s something I could never know if I hadn’t stood there, with you showing me what life is like on another planet where there is no complaining, or showing disappointment. Continue reading “There is nothing, and there is not one bloody thing.”
This documentary is on South Korean pastor Lee Jong-rak, the founder of “Baby Box”. This is a short film that you will not forget. Here’s an excerpt:
On the streets, we saw so many babies abandoned under any condition. We were so heartbroken seeing them. And we thought to ourselves, “What’s the best way to save these lives?” That’s why we made the baby box. I had a realization. If I don’t do something to protect these children, I could be picking up dead bodies at my gate.
The standard height of a newborn baby is 52cm. So Pastor Lee measured the box considering this fact. “After I installed it, I didn’t expect babies to come in. I prayed, ‘God, please don’t let any baby be abandoned in this world.’
When the baby is put in the box, the box makes a sound. The bell goes: Ding Dong. Ding Dong. During dawn, when it’s quiet, imagine hearing this sound. Thump, thump, thump. With my heart beating fast, I run down. I take the baby out. “Thank you God, for saving this child’s life. I pray like that and hug him in my arms. (Ding Ding. Ding. Dong.) My heart drops. When I hear this sound, my heart drops. (He closes the door to the baby box.)
He points to the inscription above the box:
“For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in.” (Psalm 27:10)
Pastor Lee Jong-rak, his wife and family. Soul stirring.
When South African filmmaker Dave Meinert took into his life a Great Dane puppy, whom he named Pegasus, he was told that the tiny canine might not live very long due to her difficult beginnings in a squalid backyard puppy mill. With this in mind, Meinert set about documenting Pegasus every day for six months as she walked or tried to walk on a treadmill. He then compiled the footage together and created an incredibly touching time-lapse film entitled “The Pegasus Project.” Meinert discussed the project in an interview with Fast Company.
“Rescuing her was a way for me to be sure she’d be looked after,” Meinert says. “For me, she had already been born—nothing was going to change that. By rescuing her, at least I could be certain that she wouldn’t be discarded.” Rather than dwell on the negatives about her life, he says, “I decided to make a record of the healthy days as a way to celebrate them.”
And also note that today (August 26th) is National Dog Day.
Source: Laughing Squid