There’s a City of Light…

My late dear grandma known fondly by many as “Grossmommy”  left behind her a legacy of singing remembered by all who ever knew her. She would sing from sun up to sun down praising her Maker from her heart even though she sometimes went off key or couldn’t remember the words. I remember many times when I would hear her singing how she would sing phrase by phrase with long pauses in-between. Everyone loved her singing and it brightened many a day for others and I’m sure for herself too as one cannot be a depressed singer when the song is for Jesus.

I have always wanted to be like my dear Grossmommy; leaving a rich legacy which is treasured with deep nostalgia by every single one of her children and grandchildren. One thing especially I want is for my children to have a mother who sings like Grossmommy used to.

When Veronika came to me a year ago I did kangaroo care with her which means carrying her skin to skin inside my shirt right next to my heart and I started to sing to her. Constantly as I was working I would be reminded to sing when I felt the soft flutter of her tiny body against me. Since she didn’t get to know my voice in the womb and since I knew she probably had already heard far too many harsh, unkind words I wanted her to know my voice as gentle and safe and what better way than to sing to her about Jesus. One of the songs I have sung to her literally hundreds of times is the well loved hymn, There’s a City of Light. Over and over I sang it to her as she grew and grew… and I’m still singing it to her.

I never stopped to wonder why that was the one hymn that always came first to my mind and heart when I opened  my mouth to sing. After several months of singing it to her I was paging through our family cookbook one day fondly reading different things that brought back memories when I came across something my Aunt Kate had written about her mother, Grossmommy.

QUOTE: This is one of the first memories that I have, that I have never forgotten. Mother ( Grossmommy ) was outside. I was just a little girl yet, upstairs in bed on a summer evening. She was singing, “There’s a city of light, ’mid the stars we are told…” and I remember how the song came floating over the hill and through the open window… UNQUOTE

It struck me to think that, that old, old hymn was so weaved into who I am since my earliest existence. I never remember consciously learning  and memorizing it like I have done with many others. It was so special to me to think here I was in Haiti where I often feel totally separated from my family unknowingly weaving my tiny daughter's  life into the same fabric… And I continue weaving…

    

A Sandbox For The Kinner!!

So whats so great about a sandbox? Well when you have seven kids and no outside toys and when you can’t just go buy a sandbox and sand but have to make the box by hand and then dig the sand out of the lake and carry it about a mile through mud and bugs and frogs… It is a bbbbiiiiiiiigggggggg deal!! Thanks to Matt, the house-dad and his willing helpers the children now have a big, beautiful sandbox full of nice clean sand. The little boys play in it for hours every day!! I already don’t know what we ever did without it!

 

Even before it was completed the boys could not resist digging in it!!

Just look at Mich’s excited face!!

For The Love Of Diapers

I don’t think I’ve ever been this thankful for diapers... This morning at church I took Veronika  out on the front steps of the church to feed her a snack. The front steps are the nursery so I got to sit with some other moms who had brought their tots outside which is always fun!! What I was observing today was the diaper or not- diaper system that these moms use. If the babies are not yet trained to take care of their own potty needs they simply wear nothing on their bottoms except their clothes or they wear thin little panties so of course they are constantly sitting in puddles. The moms don’t let them play in it but other than that there is nothing said as the tot scoots around leaving a wet trail and streaks of mud behind them. After a while the mother will pull her tot up, strip his pants off and put others on only to start the whole process over again… Its really no wonder they just let them run bare-bottom at home!

The Perfect Mother

I remember as a small girl sitting up in the gnarled branches of an old apple tree with my arms full of dolls and teddy bears, diaper bags and doll bottles with real liquid that looked like milk and juice… I remember of sitting there hidden among thousands of lacey pink blossoms dreaming of the day when I would be “big”!! I dreamed of being a real mom with real babies; of having a real diaper bag of my own with real baby bottles of real milk…

Over the years since I have been grown up I’ve had the privilege of caring for a handful of dear children whom I loved very deeply but none of them were actually mine. I used to look at them and say, “ All I want out of life is a little family “ and again I would dream of having children who were actually mine; babies who the social worker wouldn’t take away just as they were entering the fun stages of first teeth, first birthdays, first steps and first words. I wondered sometimes how it would be to just let go and love without having to remind myself that someday this child will have to leave.

A year ago when I unwrapped the bundle of rags which had ruthlessly been thrust into my arms and saw for the first time the pitiful, helpless, dying, form of a 1 lb baby girl I knew that this was going to be my daughter. As I cared for her tiny body I dreamed of being the perfect mother for this precious baby girl. Some things that were very important to me for the first year were to play classical music and scripture for her constantly, to sing many hymns to her, I did not want her to have any sugar before her first birthday, and I wanted to give her only fresh vegetables, meat and some fruit for as long as possible before introducing things like pasta, bread, sugar and processed foods. I wanted her to have the perfect balance of gentle, sweetness and rough play so that she could navigate through life without being overly fearful and sheltered but yet be in touch with her feminine beauty. Blah, Blah, Blah… of course I could go on and on…

Now at one year of age she loves singing, music, dancing and she is very smart in spite of the fact that we live in a house with people who hate classical music… , she loves all food but her favorite is spaghetti, she loves spicy foods, and ketchup on her scrambled eggs, I give her almost anything including those junky toddler cookies, ( even mint patties ). She loves to play with the boys, giggles at bad faces and loud growls, teases the cat and hates dolls!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!! what happened to my high ideals?

Well, I have had to redefine in my mind the statement, “ Nothing but the rarest kind of best is good enough for the very young “. Even though I am still in full agreement with it I figured out that the rarest kind of best here in Haiti looks pretty different from the rarest kind of best in some other places. I have had to fight through that fact and come to peace with it. As much as I would like to feed Veronika only unprocessed, natural, organic, whole foods I simply do not have that choice so I have to do the best I can with what I have. I have to be okay with the fact that I cannot be the perfect mother that I once envisioned and I have to trust that Jesus will fill in the blanks where I fail.

Veronika enjoys a fresh mango!!

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!!

Veronika checks out her her first birthday cake and isn't sure about it...

just look at my messy hands!

delighted with her presents!!