The recital yesterday went as I expected on Sunday. But I forgot to take pictures! I was busy, I guess, as the recitals usually go: Children and families, visiting former students, and a new baby or two. I try to meet and greet grandparents, shake a hand, meet a student's boyfriend. I catch up on the families, other events in their lives, and maintain a recital atmosphere.
My whole being in the last 24 hours or so has been tempered by the Haiti earthquake and my soul is mourning. I feel death and loss. I can't explain it. At church, the music was uplifting and meaningful, yet, I took a slightly more somber tempo, and held a serious pose. We learned of Martin Luther King Jr.,'s social justice. We held each other in prayer, and we prayed for Haiti.
I am undeniably affected by Pat Robertson's "pact with the devil" comments. I shudder as I think that someone, somewhere, has heard his words and thinks that I agree with him. After all, I am an American and a Christian. But he does not speak for me. Neither does Rush Limbaugh. Neither of these men represent anything more than themselves, yet they stand and proclaim that they speak for us, for America, for me.
I've sent money to Haiti. I plan to help pack food stuffs with Feed My Starving Children, who is doing an extra push of supplies to Haiti. And I pray. I pray for the woman who raised her arms above her head and screamed to the heavens, "We are all alone!" Help us!" I pray for the people crying in the street. The dead, the babies, the brokenness. I can't watch any more live video; I can no longer look on the anguished faces of the lost and brokenhearted.
I know no one personally that lives in Haiti. I know no one who is from Haiti. I didn't know anyone personally in New Orleans after Katrina. I knew of people who knew of people in the towers after 9/11. Yet, here I am; praying, hoping.
Here, on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country,
And say simply
With hope --
Dr. Maya Angelou