Beautiful Haiti

Along with millions of others this past week, I have longed to be able to do more than send money to help the survivors of the devastating earthquake that struck Haiti. I’m not a doctor, nor a relief worker, nor a journalist – so what can I do? Money is good – it helps. But it leaves a buffer between me and the actual people to whom I could reach out. I want to be with them.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and tell you something that happened to me about nine years ago. It occurred two days after a terrible tragedy suddenly killed several thousand people. I was lying in bed in that in-between stage between waking and sleeping when I had visitors come into my room. There were four of them – women of various ages and races – and they were holding hands. One of them said to me, very distinctly: “We don’t know where to go.”

I remember feeling calm but necessary, rather like a police officer giving instructions during a moment of crisis. I replied instantaneously, without thinking: “Follow the light. Follow the light.” And I pointed.

I don’t want to analyze this experience or offer any interpretation – I just want to share it. A few weeks later I was reading an article about an experience a woman had after a bad car accident. She described the feeling of separating from her body, and of being nervous and uncertain – and afraid. Then she had come across a person who seemed to be calmly feeding her strengthening, good thoughts from a nearby parked car. Months later, after she had recovered from her injuries, she tried to seek out that person. They eventually met and talked about how helpful the person’s serenity had been. Ever since, in times of accidents and crises, she has paused to send out good thoughts and tranquil prayers to people who are injured or dying. When I read about her response, it made a lot of sense to me.

We all have our own picture of life after death – or not – but it occurs to me that during this momentous tragedy we could do worse than to try to surround some of those who were abruptly torn from their bodies with light and peace, instead of dwelling too deeply into the horror and grief that news reports and our own helplessness creates in us.

Just a suggestion: to light a candle, to say a prayer, to provide a haven of peace and respite where someone can rest during the journey home.