As I watched the news showing the devastation left along the Texas coast after Hurricane Ike, I remembered my experiences as a shelter volunteer after Hurricane Katrina 3 years ago. So much devastation countered by so much hope. I'm thankful that my family and friends in the Houston area are safe and I pray that those who lost so much this weekend find the same hope I saw in those who survived Hurricane Katrina.
"Perspective in a Sea of Faces"
September 3, 2005
1:30 am
I can’t sleep. My dreams are haunted by the sea of faces, some desperate, some void of emotion, some reflecting the trauma they were experiencing, who now call Kelly USA home. Stranded for days in deplorable conditions, without water, food or sanitation, stuck on rooftops, under bridges, or in hospitals. I could smell the suffering in the air, mixed with the smell of the sweat-soaked bodies of the determined but exhausted survivors of Hurricane Katrina’s wrath.
Gone was the luxury of privacy, replaced by row upon row of individual cots, many without pillows or blankets. Silence was stolen by the rustling of thousands of people now calling an old Airforce base home. There was a constant, low murmur as people talked amongst themselves, sometimes replaced by angry shouts as frustration and misery boiled to the surface, only to be calmed by armed police officers.
My job in Section 2B, was to walk around and listen to people’s stories, to offer encouragement, to take them to get basic necessities like underwear and toothbrushes, to direct them to the cafeteria, missing person’s center, telephone bank, showers (not private showers, but tent showers set up outside), and most importantly to help them to find their dignity.
It’s not easy to survive a catastrophe and still find hope. Yet everywhere I turned I saw it. Reflected in the eyes of 12 year old Kevin, who performed a rap for me and taught me a cool new handshake, which I have to say beats the wimpy “white” girl handshake I was using! In the eyes of his friend, aptly named Robin, who told me that he liked 3 Doors Down and then joined me in singing “Here Without You”, before giving me a big hug and asking me to come back the next day for another one. In the Coleman family, who thanked me over and over again for “everything” I had done, even though I had done nothing but sit with them and listen to their story. A family who was happy to be together in an air conditioned room, with water and food, and whose happiness turned to sheer joy once we located much needed underwear.
I saw determination in the eyes of the medical workers from University Hospital in downtown New Orleans. Stuck for days with patients they couldn’t treat, finally evacuated by helicopter and then plane, they chose to look toward an uncertain future with hope, not bitterness or anger. Beverly was an amazing woman whose tragedy defined her character. Her frustration was evident, but her faith was stronger than her fear. She was determined to form a small business to help the poorest of the poor learn how to escape their poverty. She wanted to be proactive, to make a difference in her corner of the world.
One of my most treasured books is “Whistling in the Dark, A Doubter’s Dictionary”, by Frederick Buechner. Here’s an excerpt from my favorite section:
“Faces, like everything else, can be looked at and not seen. ……you’re surrounded by thousands of them. Here and there one of them may catch your eye for a moment, but in another moment you’ve forgotten it. They are without personalities and without histories. There is nothing to remember them by. But, the odds are that for at least one other person somewhere in the world each of them – even the unlikeliest – matters enormously, or mattered enormously once, or someday, with any luck, will come to matter. ……..if you set your mind to it, there’s hardly a one of them you can’t imagine somebody loving…… You can see even the bitter faces in terms of what probably made them that way. You can see even the hostile, ugly faces in terms of what they must have been once before the world got to them, what they might have become if they’d gotten the breaks.”
Those words help me look at others with fresh eyes, to remember that every soul matters, and if there is someone who feels like they don’t matter, then maybe I can show them that they do. So that’s what I did. I loved people, however they needed to be loved. Some required a smile, others a hug, some just a listening and sympathetic ear. When it became emotionally overwhelming I just remembered that each person was a piece of my Father. I extended Christ’s love to them, and tried to give it a human face so they would never forget that they matter. Now that I know a little of the personalities behind some of those faces, they will not be forgotten.
I will return to love them again with a fresh perspective. I will remember that no matter how “hard” my life seems, it could always be worse. I will care less about my own comfort and more about the comfort of others. To remember that the most important things in life have nothing to do with the size of my house, my car, or fitting into smaller jeans, but with giving myself to family, friends and fellow humans in good times and bad. I will look at the sea of faces and strive to learn their story and to love them extravagantly, even if I get nothing out of it, simply because I am loved extravagantly.
There are many things in life that have "tripped me up" over the years, but sadly nothing so much as my own clumsiness. So guess what I did today? Yes folks, I tripped.............going UP the stairs. Now I would LOVE to place blame on my heels and extra long pants, but that wouldn't be fair. The honest, embarrassing truth is that I'm a klutz, plain and simple. And if you've spent much time with me at all, then you probably recall seeing me stumble while trying to do something as complicated as say, walking, which I've only been doing for about 38 years. I'm really hoping my walking skills improve with age.
