She Is Here

The Emancipation Network

Submitted by Janell Hofmann on Mon, 03/29/2010 - 01:20

There are some weeks that just pass. They slip away without the awareness of their passing - just going, going, gone. We don't stop to check in, absent of self-reflection, we survive by crossing things off our list of things to do. Hours blend into days. Days into weeks. The pages of calendars turning at a pace we don't prefer, but cannot control. And sometimes, even with these weeks jammed with appointments and activities, our lives are taken to a new level of busy. Especially when external factors, beyond our control, coupled with the hurried schedule we'd willingly committed to, come crashing together. In our household, we have had one of those runs. And for better or worse, we kicked it up a notch to get the big and the basic done. Our cat died. My daughter turned four. All seven of us got a nasty stomach virus. We attended weekend days full of unexpected youth basketball tournaments, long after we thought my son's season was over. My husband had last minute opportunities to play his music in places of inspiration, the kind of venues you just don't turn down. Even if the show is on a Sunday night at 11pm.

These are the times that, please forgive me, I'm afraid I get a little lost from the cause. How does being a modern day abolishionist fit into this kind of a life? Who am I to think that I can pull this off? To think that I can continue to care and to give in the capacity I would like, when there are piles of backed up laundry on top of classroom instructions for my first grader to build a leprechaun trap with a simple machine. When there is that yoga class I'm dying to get back to and relatives to visit out of state. When vomit has soaked every bed and rug in the house and my shy daughter is begging to have a new friend over for a playdate. When I scan the cabinets and there is exactly no cereal for the morning, bread for lunches, or options for dinner and a trip to the grocery store is required after the kids are fast asleep. How exactly do I stay on task, with the volunteer work I love, for children and women across the world during times like these?
And then it happens. An email shows up in my inbox that I have been anticipating. It reads:

Dear Janell,
Your family has officially been accepted as a school sponsor for five year old Puja at The Women's Interlink Foundation shelter. She will be enrolled in school at the Kindergarten level as soon as her paperwork is properly filed for entry. Attached is a photograph of Puja. We'll be in touch with more details soon.
Thank you,
The Emancipation Network

I'm overjoyed. The feeling of connectedness to the cause, that screams without hesitation, “you can't stop me I'm on a mission”. And I feel the intensity and passion come rising back up. I am in a unique position because I have in fact met this beautiful child on my trip to India. I have held her in my arms. I have danced with her by my side. I have played ball with her. I have sat on her bed. I know her. Indeed, like all of the girls I met, I love her. And upon hearing this wonderful news, my heart aches. I miss these children. I long to be on the ground, in the field, having a daily impact in their lives. I am homesick for my experiences in the shelters. I want to be able to send them all to school. So I just sit with all the gratitude I can rally, knowing that making a choice to sponsor just one child, I am still a part of it, however humbly I can contribute.

And my favorite part of this entire story is that my own children (and husband) squeal with delight at the news! I holler into our family room, “We are officially sending Miss Puja to school!” They come running, pushing for the best view of the email, the new picture, to run through my photos of the trip hoping for another glimpse of her now that she is “ours”. They want to hear her story again. An orphan with no Mommy or Daddy, rescued from auction by a brave woman named Aloka, brought to a beautiful shelter outside of Kolkata, and now given the opportunity for education. They want to send her letters and drawings, clothes, backpacks, and pencils. And yes, my four year old wants to pay for some of Puja's school from her piggy bank. Actually, she really wants me to see if she can come “home” with us. I print whatever pictures I can find of this darling during my trip, she is my desktop background, she is our topic of conversation. A spark has been ignited and I love the glow it gives my family. I hope that sweet, shy, tentative Puja feels all of this love and is glowing a little too.

And so in the midst of life, the challenges and celebrations, the joys and juggling, this little life, our small soul sister, centers us. Her story lives here and connects two worlds. And I know something has shifted. We have made the choice to weave a child's life with our own. Everyday she is here and we are there. And now, in the great and small, she is part of our story.

To sponsor a child rescued or at high risk for slavery visit http://www.madebysurvivors.com/content/ten-school-sponsorhsip.
Namaste,
Janell


She Is Here

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