Rachel's Quilt

Last Christmas, my cousin Rachel gave me a Christmas tree skirt that she made as a present. She is twelve years younger than me, and we've been exchanging gifts or notes since she was very little. Usually it was something small but meaningful--I once gave her a journal for the plays that we always wrote together and she gave me something of equal significance. Lately, however, we've been exchanging less personal gifts, and last year, I got her a couple of shirts from American Eagle. Needless to say, I felt quite guilty when I opened the gift that she had worked so hard on for me. This year, I refuse to be ashamed by a lame gift! And so I've been working on a quilt for her. Actually, I started this quilt for her (a triple? quadruple? Irish chain... not sure which) last winter.

Unfortunately, I've been less than pleased with it, and last weekend started a new one. Another Irish chain (though only a single), and I've been much happier with the results. Until I cut the squares the wrong size... but no matter. I have plenty of material to try again. I will upload the pictures later, because apparently I don't have them on my laptop yet. Oops...

John Dau

Last night I attended a talk at Augsburg College by John Dau, one of the "lost boys" from the Sudan. For the most part it was a hurried (he arrived 1/2 hr late because of a delayed flight), inspirational speech, focusing on perseverance and glossing over the gory and undeniably painful details of his flight from his home village to an Ethiopian refugee camp and later, Kenya. His talk had a lot of intriguing and heart-breaking points, but one thing he said really stuck with me because of its application to all people and circumstances. He said,

"today may not be okay, but tomorrow will be better."

This was something he used to tell the younger "lost boys" whom he was in charge of in the Ethiopian refugee camp when they didn't have food or milk, and he believes it sustained many of them through the hard times... He didn't really know that things would get better, but by encouraging these boys to hope, he believes he helped them hold on for another day. Can words really have such a powerful influence on a person's life? If you go through life truly believing that the day after today will be better, how could you possibly give up?

Sometimes I forget that the premise of hope rests upon this belief: that the future will be better than the present. Barack Obama offers hope that our country can turn itself around. I work on immigration issues because I hope that future generations of immigrants will stand a better chance than yesterday and today's immigrants. Common Hope offers hope to individuals and families with education, health care and housing... but we also have hope that these individuals will make tomorrow better than today.

Robert Frost and summers past...

"Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day,
Nothing gold can stay.

Last Friday I drove up to Saint John's Univ. to pick up a few things from a CH supporter. Whilst there, I had the opportunity to reconnect with a dear friend from college, whom I hadn't seen in three years. He currently lives in South Korea and was home for two short weeks. My last parting with this friend wasn't particularly pleasant, but we've kept in touch by email and the occasional telephone call. In truth, this is my fault. I messed up three years ago... and I haven't yet had the courage to try to make things right...

While my friend and I were reminiscing about the "good old times" (a mere four years ago), we lingered on a lovely, magical summer we spent living at Saint John's. The activities that entertained us each evening... riding our bicycles to Avon or Saint Joseph, playing "Mafia," tossing a frisbee around outside his dorm and having deep discussions about Harry Potter... are legendary. The simplicity of our lives and our relationship was refreshing and beautiful. My friend told me that when he reflects on those months, the images that are conjured up in his minds eye hold a golden tint. To him, that was our "golden summer." His description of those wonderful, warm evenings is perfect. Our golden summer was everything a summer should be--lazy, comfortable, simple, refreshing... and much of our time together was spent in the weaning hours of sunlight... with the world reflected in a brilliant, golden glow. But like Mr. Frost poetically quipped, "Nothing gold can stay," and our summer of simplicity, warmth and love soon faded to Fall... and the chaos of school, the stress of graduation and the fear that inevitably accompanies new love soon followed.