Posted by
BL on Monday, July 24, 2006 8:15:39 PM
Yesterday, my wife and I hosted our church choir's summer
cookout. Let me tell you a little about us. Our parish is
located in an old industrial city in Massachusetts. Like most
such towns, the city struggles to get by. Ever since the first
mills were founded it has become a magnet for immigrants and,
therefore, very diverse. We have 19 different languages spoken by
our parishioners, they are from all over Europe, Asia, the Caribbean
and Latin America. Some of us were even born here. We don't
look at all like your typical Massachusetts Catholic parish. And
the choir reflects this.
One of my friends brought his family. He is Haitian, a man of
deep faith, wonderful musical talent, and with three beautiful children
and a lovely wife. As we adults sat inside and talked, the
children were all outside playing in the sandbox. His younger
daughter, about 4, came in, started to pat me gently on the hand and
said 'Come play! Come play!' as if the most delightful
thing in the world would be to build sand castles with her brother,
sister, cousin and herself.
And so it would be.
But her father was talking about affairs in his homeland, where
conditions worsen every day. He talked of his father, back in
Port au Prince, an elderly man, who lives in fear that a gang will find
out he has a relative in the U.S.. Should this happen he would be
kidnapped, and the next thing would be a phone call telling my friend
that unless he sent 40,000 or 50,000 dollars, his father would be
killed. So this good old man cannot leave his home if he doesn't
recognize the people outside. His son tries to cope with his
fear, for his father and his native land.
This morning I thought about that contrast - the oppression of violence
experienced by his father and the simple innocent freedom to play in
the sand enjoyed by his daughter. These are the blessings of
liberty - to see your children playing and know that they are safe.