I have a notebook. It’s full of mindless minutia, slivered shards of Malawi’s stories. Observations. Statistics. Jot notes. Crinkled, dirty pages with scribbles of barely legible detail that would probably be thrown away by an outsider. But to me it is priceless. It got lost once in Malawi and I spent most of a fitful night wracking my brain and begging God to help me find it. How could I do what I was asked to do, effectively tell stories, without the fullness of detail?
But as I leaf through the pages now I wonder, where do I begin? What page? It is all important and meaningful. Since Malawi I’ve been plagued by insomnia. It’s getting better, but I find myself still awakened by force, wrestling with emotions I can rarely give language to. Stories and experiences trapped inside me, screaming to get out without a doorway. And It’s easier to toss, turn or cry frustrated tears than it is to sort my tangled emotional thoughts and or collect the splayed puzzle pieces of memory fragments and form them into words.
Yesterday my friend Sherry posted a link to a website for beginner photographers. On it was a weekly, single word themed challenge to inspire picture-taking. There was something about the simplicity of it that appealed to me. And I got an idea. What if, instead of taking a new picture on the theme, I associated each word with my unwritten tales of Malawi? Maybe that’s what I needed all along – basic, uncluttered inspiration. One theme, one word at a time.
So once a week, I am going to try to match Ingrid’s theme with a photograph and story of Malawi here on the blog. I don’t know if they will all be transferable, but I hope shallowly buried scraps of significance will emerge.
Week #1: New
Trinkets. Dollar store junk of questionable quality. What place does it have in Africa? I struggled with that myself. What good does it really do? I’m learning it has a greater purpose than you might expect.
In itself, it’s true – a cheap, flimsy toy doesn’t solve the problems of the poor. But it does represent something massive in the fight against poverty. Hope. Significance.
We visited Prisca, an absolutely lovely little girl whose lips look like tiny flower petals. She was terrified of me and if I moved near her, she screamed and leaped off her chair. The new ring is a gift from her sponsor. It is cheap and tacky, but that day it was the catalyst for trust. It appealed to her girly side and bridged the gap. By the end of the visit, I could call her my friend.
This rinky dink token doesn’t end hunger or cure HIV. It doesn’t solve the long frantic lines of desperate people who need fuel and line up in blind hope. It doesn’t bring the rain, bring the fertilizer or shorten the long, difficult road Prisca has yet to walk to rise above the challenges of simply being born in Africa.
But it does speak words of affirmation. Someone is thinking about you. You’re beautiful. Worthy of love. Treasured. The best is still to come. Words that may not have been spoken before to a heart as dry as her father’s parched crops.
In Canada, gifts speak words of love to us – invisible yet powerful messages that hearts don’t hear with simple words. And here we even buy ourselves gifts – we impose that value on ourselves. In Africa gifts are rarely given, not for lack of affection, but lack of means. Cheap bubbles, balls, crayons. In a world of anticlimactic upgrades, discarded for most Canadian kids, in Malawi these are a source of joy and a symbol of acceptance.
New is not always better, we’re told. And it’s true. But when it comes to matters of the heart, to the poorest of the poor, new speaks volumes. In a country where everything is re-purposed or handed down out of necessity, it represents the possibility that comes from a friend across the world.
New brings renewal. Fresh dreams, restored optimism, revived faith and regenerated security. That’s a bargain for mere pennies. And that’s why Colin and I spent exorbitant amounts of money to haul seemingly meaningless novelty toys to Malawi.
Because in the right hands, they are the voice of promise. And they are not meaningless at all.
For me as well I have spent endless nights trying to figure out how I can help more. I have woken up every morning for 3 months after returning to Canada from Zambia with ideas of what to do to help my sponsored child more. Things go in threes in my life. So after 3 months I am not so obsessed. Zambia is far from forgotten, but I have a plan and that has eased my mind. Just as you now have a plan. I only think of Zambia a few times a day now, not most of my day.
I know it is hard, but you are doing SO MUCH to help those less fortunate than the majority of Canadians and unfortunately the heart ache and tears help you do that in such a passionate way.
David Phiri from World Vision-Zambia said to me, ” One cannot walk with you and fail to perceive things differently”. I think that should be said about you as well.
You are making a huge difference and people feel your pain. Through you and Colin, many will get an enormous glimpse of feeling how it really is, and more and more will move closer to opening up their hearts to others in everyday life. In all walks of life.
I now feel very fortunate that I was able to experience that feeling of helplessness and pain & anger for people who are stuck in the lives that have been given them. With out feeling that, I would not be able to share it with others.
I have hope that I can do my little bit to help and that many more will do the same.
We have lost a lot of our compassion in North America, but not all. It is a growing movement and we are spreading the word. Each and everyone who reads this blog and shares it with their friends and family. Everyone I meet in life I share my experiences and put the thought into their minds , with out making them feel pressured. They may not act today, but maybe one day.
You are blessed and those who know & have met you are blessed.
Just keep going as today is another day and I am happy that you have figured out a way to do that! It will get better for all you have met! I know it!
Christy,
I love reading your posts. You have an incredible insight, and an even more amazing gift of sharing it in the most creative, clear, and impacting way! Thank you for sharing your gift! You have made my day on numerous occasions.
I have had a similar experience with trinkets. You probably remember when I met Joseph. He too was terrified of me, and it was the worst feeling when his eyes welled up with tears. In the end, it was a soccer ball that brought us together. Maybe not exactly a trinket, but it was still the item that was able to bridge the gap between my world and his, and help ease all of the emotions we were both feeling.
I have always had an aversion to trinkets. My Dad however was an avid collector of everything! I was never really interested in his ‘things’ and when he passed away last year there wasn’t really anything I could think of that I wanted of his. But as we started to sort through the piles of things, the story of his life, and of so many others, began to emerge. I ended up keeping MANY things, including a huge collection of old canning/mason jars. They have become a really important part of my life and now signify a lot of things to me. They also remind me of him on a regular basis. I think the ring, and the small trinkets play the same role. They will serve as constant reminders of this relationship, and that someone cares!
Thanks again Christy!
HI! I took a glimpse on your blogpost and what you wrote about: “This rinky dink token doesn’t end hunger or cure HIV. It doesn’t solve the long frantic lines of desperate people who need fuel and line up in blind hope. It doesn’t bring the rain, bring the fertilizer or shorten the long, difficult road Prisca has yet to walk to rise above the challenges of simply being born in Africa. But it does speak words of affirmation. Someone is thinking about you. You’re beautiful. Worthy of love. Treasured. The best is still to come. Words that may not have been spoken before to a heart as dry as her father’s parched crops.” is so true! People need encouragement, to know that someone thinks about you. We can´t change the whole world by ourself but we can change what we can change and we can share hope to others.
I think , maybe, just maybe, I’m beginning to understand what stokes your passion for all of this. Keep writing from your heart, my girl, you are teaching and reaching us who are still quite blind.
Christy,
I am honored that you are taking part in the challenge and your “twist” fascinates me. This is truly mammoth stuff and I am moved that I could have been involved in sparking the inspiration for the above post. I can’t wait to see more of your work and hear about the stories behind the images.
Thanks for sharing
Ingrid
Reading what others have written here as they reflect upon your blog is nothing short of amazing. (As is the blog itself!) God has given you a gift to translate His love, His passion, His heart for others to read in plain English. We are blessed by your gift.
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AMEN and AMEN!!!!!!!!!!
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