WALKING FOR HAITI
Today in Boston with Walk For Haiti was thrilling. I feel so happy.
I feel connected to the Haitians, in gear and ready to do what I can.
And I feel part of the giant beating heart of Partners in Health.
I told them I plan on doing a tag sale fundraiser on May 2,
and they were very encouraging, gave me a stack of literature to share.
I have been needing this part of my life for quite a while now,
kind of walking around a bit in a fog, feeling in a bubble, not
connecting to the world in a way I want to, where it is urgent.
We almost all had the red Walk for Haiti t -shirt on, which made us
a long lei of red poppies bobbing along the banks of the Charles, all smiles.
I had the Haitian flag tied over my shoulders like a cape.
I feel like I’ve just woken up from a long time asleep in a barn.
Clicking on a donation button on a website is like a dream. It’s
still a good thing to do, but connecting physically in time and
place feels like it turns a giant water wheel, generates power.
You could feel that the part of us that could do what was needed,
that was willing to risk something, that side was rising to the surface,
and that was a beautiful thing.
I tell you, reading ‘Mountains Beyond Mountains’ saved my life.
I feel like I was a dog on 3 legs and now I have 4 and am ready to run.
Or maybe better to say I was a boat in a shipyard, waiting to be put in the
water. I don’t want to let go of this feeling. Selfishly, for me. I have signed on
as a regional representative for PIH, and look forward to being as active as
I can be, with keeping this part of the commonwealth informed and engaged.
I keep remembering one of the traffic cops assigned to the walk today. He was
Haitian. As he held the traffic back on Memorial Drive so the march could cross over
to the banks of the Charles, he chanted in creole the Haitian version of ‘Many hands
make light the work’, and got us all singing it. He was our conductor, our cheerleader.
He was the happiest person there, his whole body radiating hope and joy. Hope and joy.
