Days like today are the days I dream of. After a heavy rain fall last night there proceeds to be absolutely beautiful weather. The moisture in the air and the smell of freshly fallen rain sweeps across my face as I walk downtown. I am wearing a sweater and that is quite enough to combat the slight chill that engulfs me as I set forth on foot. The sun is not quite out but I am rather fond of cloudy days; such beautiful weather after a battle for warmth all autumn.
Last night we had an SWD Christmas party at my friend Evann's house. Her house is GIANT. And so nice. It is out on a farm. We had a hay ride, dirty santa (where I scored Miracle on 34th Street), and lots and lots to eat. We had some Christmas caroling in the living room. It was so fun. I am sad to be away from those people for three weeks but they say "distance makes the heart grow fonder."
Tonight we went to the Bethlehem walk at WECA church. Basically it was a GIANT gym set up with a field scene, market place, and stable. The field consisted of shepherds talking to us and then angels flying out on wires and singing about the good news of Jesus' birth. Then was the market, so many realistic shops, people, and animals. My description does not do it justice. It was huge and felt so real. And then of course the stable with baby Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. All I was thinking the whole time was "my dad would love this." All the people dressed up and acting like they were living in ancient times. The whole atmosphere was so mind blowing. About 10,000 people attended throughout the whole weekend.
In the dictionary we forgot a word.
So put the kettle on, you know it's time to. It's December, this is Canada, it might be all that keeps us alive.
I have been seeing a lot of light yellow lately because I have been preparing for my school's Christmas banquet-- coming up this Saturday! I am proud to say that I actually made my date's tie! I am so excited to dress up even though the actual banquet itself is probably going to be lame.
I had a dream I was back. Back home. In Haiti.
The Hope House kids had written a song for me and when they sang it I cried. Roseberline told me that since I had left she had been in darkness but now that I had returned I was in the light (as if any six year old would say that, especially an extremely sassy one).
Miseline was there too. And Stevenson. And all of them. Micherline gave me a hug but told me she still hated me, but even that I loved.
I remember hating myself because I didn’t know all of their names anymore. I was overcome with guilt and hate for myself because I didn’t know my own family’s names.
I had forgotten how to speak Creole and I was ashamed.
I remember crying a lot, because they had been waiting for me.
I remember asking Brad to think about hiring me.
But in the end, I was home. Sitting on a bench outside the Hope House, waiting for the Friday night movie to start surrounded by the brothers and sisters I have always prayed for.
Despite all the advice I receive about being a hundred percent where you are… I think part of me is still there. Still walking into that kitchen ready to teach class. Or lying on the floor in the girls’ dorm letting the tiles cool my skin while we do hair and read books.
Clearly my sub conscious is more torn up about not being there, with them, than I have let myself be.