As I have stated before, Pasith and I are from opposite ends of the world, literally. The fact that we met and married is made up of many small miracles and a few divine interventions. We also have a few unexpected parallels in our lives. One is that we both have families that saw a need, took a leap of faith, and made an enormous difference for our families.
Today we had a BBQ at my brother-in-law’s house; a celebration. 31 years ago my husband’s family was sponsored by a group of people in a St Pierre, Manitoba church. They were given a way out of poverty, starvation and an uncertain future. My husband’s family had already escaped in the night in a leaky boat across the Mekong under the deadly search lights a few years before. They were now in the refugee camps of Thailand. Not under constant threat of conscription or death but now starving. His Dad had applied to go to the United States but the paperwork fell through a few days before they were to leave. They were stuck there for a few more months. I can’t imagine his parent’s disappointment at the news of being stuck there for even a few more days let alone months. But, then they were given hope when they were sponsored to Manitoba. They arrived in a March blizzard. The youngest boy, 3 years old, was very sick and in the hospital within a few days. The sponsors were in for more than they had realized. From explaining how to sleep in a bed, to just simply trying to communicate. But, they stuck with it and helped this family get started in a new country, in safety. The impact that this group had on all our lives is immeasurable.
On my side I also have a family, well more like a village. But one family in particular that went above and beyond to help out a struggling Mom with 2 babies. Uncle G and Auntie D had met my parents a few times. Uncle G was over talking farm machinery the day before my Dad was killed. My Mom and Auntie D had shared afternoon coffee a few times. So when the night nurse at the hospital told Auntie D about my Mom in the hospital with a new baby and a toddler staying with family she knew she had to help. She went to the hospital and walked the floor with me. Auntie D sat with Mom, prayed with my Mom, tried to provide some comfort to a grieving widow. A few months later when my Mom’s family had gone home to Minnesota and the farm had been sold Auntie D started a routine of taking care her own house, two boys and us. Driving back and forth from farm to town and back helping with meals, dressing, baths whatever my Mom needed. Finally after a few months she was exhausted. So they put a crib in the spare room with a sofa bed for my Mom and sister. My Mom would go out to the farm for supper and may not have gone home for a day or two. My Mom always brought our pajamas along. As I learned to talk I called Uncle G, “Dad”. I followed him nearly everywhere. I had a system, which my Mom never knew, of calling one Mom and the other Mommy. This is not to say that we were never at home with my Mom, I have memories of the house in Moosomin where we lived till I was 3 and I know that my Mom tried to do her best but she needed help. I just don’t know where we would be without this family. We continued to go back several times a year after we moved to Manitoba. Last year Auntie D reprised her role of 34 years ago and sat with Mom and prayed with Mom in the hospital, but this time it was cancer. And she came out several times in November to help out with Mom’s final wish of dying at home. We are eternally grateful. I hope that I can make even a fraction of the impact that these people have made in our lives in someone else’s life. They have taught me what generosity of spirit is all about.