June 19, 2009
Dear Friends,
"It is such a secret place, the land of tears"
The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
The following poem was written by our resident theologian, Barbara Pine, in response to the death of a friend's much loved dog.
Rosie's bed is being carried to the house by a very kind man
The green van's door stands open
Rosie's life has closed.
The hollow under backyard shrubs lies empty.
Birds carry away the gift of soft, loose hair from her black and white coat.
Kitty grows curious by changes wrought under the morning's sun.
Rosie runs the perimeters of heaven now rather than
Along pasture's fences or the margins of a narrow yard.
She sloughs off pain and diminishing senses.
She's freed of limitations, collars, leashes and tags
She's done with nursing kittens and injuries and the moods of people.
She runs in green pastures
Beside still waters
She tends the sheep of the shepherd while her earthly bed is carried to the house
I read it and the sorrow I felt for the owner was genuine but the growing sorrow behind my sorrow was for families served by REACH that, when death comes (and it does), when the places where a loved child once lay, lies empty; too often that grieving, that "land of tears" is, as Antoine de Saint-Exupery wrote, "a secret place." I am sobered by the truth that we can openly grieve the death of an animal and still, in many corners of our communities, we fear an open declaration of the reason for a beloved child's suffering or death.
Medical treatment for children affected or infected by HIV/AIDS has vastly improved. More and more our children thrive; their life expectancy races forward. We rejoice. Socially, treatment of these very children lags behind; they are feared, in some cases refused entrance into schools and religious organizations, often kept from play dates with non-infected peers if ... if the nature of their illness is disclosed. These families, these children often live "in a secret place, this place of tears." Sixteen year old Mary and her mother do. Mary's father recently died and she, weakened by AIDS, may herself die soon. Her mother yearns to bring her to camp for healing, spiritual and emotional support; she longs to see her daughter have fun. I long to see her at camp. There are families who have adopted HIV/AIDS infected children and hope by coming to camp they will meet other parents who are living with the consequences of this disease.
REACH exists to educate against fear, to liberate those in secret places, to relieve suffering and isolation, to bring joy where sorrow so easily steals in. We wish it were possible to receive every child and family longing to attend camp but this year, in a year of economic downturn, for each one attending, three will be turned away. We ask for your assistance because we recognize the value of our camp as the entry point to caring for children and families throughout the year, for freeing families from secret places of tears. REACH longs for our children to be freed from all the limitations possible, from the tags of rejection now, while they live.
Consequently, with great boldness, we ask you to support the work of REACH, to financially contribute toward adding joy to a suffering child's life. Your monthly gift of $35 will send a child to camp this Labor Day week. Please give online.
Sincerely,
Susan K. Slonaker