Middle of Everywhere - Mary Bray Pipher [102]
Nessima drew herself and her children in black boxes that looked like coffins. She said, "We were prisoners in our small hut. It was a very dark time."
Leda drew her family on the run, a line of people with the father in the lead, then the mother, then the children in a row like ducks. Everyone was holding hands. Above the family was a crescent moon. In the distance, bombs were felling.
Zahra didn't draw anything for a long time. Then she drew slowly, her nose almost touching the paper. Watching her work, I had the feeling she had never drawn anything before. When she finally finished and lifted her head, I saw that she had drawn a meadow with sheep.
To me, it didn't look like an unhappy scene, just a crudely drawn meadow with stick sheep. But Zahra's face had been drained of color and she was trembling. I asked about this meadow. She shook her head many times and said only, "Something terrible happened here."
The women passed around their drawings. Nobody said very much. We could all guess at the feelings behind these sad pictures. I thought about the difference between the last five years of my life and the last five years of theirs. I wondered how I had ever had the nerve to complain about anything.
I collected the drawings and said, "I want to teach you an important word." On the board I wrote "hope" and I said it aloud several times. I defined it. They all smiled.
Ritu said, "Hope is good."
After the drawings of fear, we drew peace. The women drew their homes in America. The pictures, with big flowers and round suns in the corners, looked like the drawings of fourth graders. Leda put an American flag in front of her house. The other women admired that touch and they all drew flags in their front yards.
I talked about ways to relax. I suggested warm baths, lotions, and foot and back rubs from their families. I said that going outdoors and admiring the flowers and trees would be relaxing.
Zahra said her doctor said that swimming would help with her arthritis. Nessima said she would love to swim, but her husband wouldn't let her go to a public pool. Leda and Ritu both said they wouldn't feel comfortable swimming near men. I said, "I will check into a swim class for women only at the YWCA." I added, "Ritu, swimming is good for pregnant women."
The women gathered up their purses and books. Leda showed the others free tickets for the circus she had received from a local radio station. She said, "I will take my kids to look at lions and elephants. It will be a happy day for us."
Zahra looked sad and hunched over. She was heading home to her television with its tall tales and advertisements for things she would never be able to buy. I made a mental note to look into her son's situation. It would take time, but eventually we might be able to bring him to America.
Ritu touched Zahra's shoulder and said, "I am hoping you will help me with my baby. My time is soon."
Zahra straightened up as she agreed to help. As she left the room, she told Nessima, "Baby is good. Very good."
As I watched Ritu lift herself heavily from her chair, I thought about her coming baby. Ritu was already overworked, but she had never hinted that the baby would be a burden. In fact, she had told me she was very eager to see her baby take its first "breath of life."
I reflected on all of the stories from all over the world in which a child comes to end suffering. This may be our first and oldest human story. The Christmas story is one example of the many birth and salvation stories. A family wanders far from home, poor and scared, looking for a safe haven. A stranger is kind and allows them a place to rest. A baby arrives in a time of darkness and fear. The stars in the sky signal the glory of this event. The newborn brings its family great joy and the hope that he will save the world, at least the small world of the family. It's an archetypal story because it reflects our deep belief in