Thursday, 19 May 2011
"It takes a village" lived out before my eyes...
The image will forever be etched in my memory. It was beautiful, truly beautiful. A grieving mother standing before her family and friends at the funeral of her 28-year-old son who tragically took his life. Grieving friends, her husband and her other children standing with her literally supporting her fragile frame. A grieving young son, who is one of our students, embracing his mother completely with his head nestled in her bosom. As she spoke, tears flowed freely and honestly down her face. What I saw next is the memory I will never forget.
Our student, who is very mischievous at school, took the kleenex he was holding in his hand and gently wiped away his mother's tears. Tears are flowing down my face as I write this! The bond of love between this son and mother was so powerful it filled the entire room permeating deep into our souls.
This funeral was the most honest funeral I have been to. It was beautiful! They freely shared their pain with us about their son and why he took his own life. The Pastor spoke beautiful words of hope and not condemnation.
It was my first Jamaican funeral. Let me tell you, I loved every minute of it, which I know sounds strange in light of this tragedy! I truly saw lived out before my eyes the old Nigerian proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child." This funeral had a profound effect on me. I want to be part of this village. Actually, I AM part of this village! I loved the music! I loved how these people communicated between each other when they sang and loved how they communicated between each other when the pastor gave his message! There was no fear or inhibitions, yet they maintained a reverence that filled that room with peace. I LOVED how when they sang the final hymn, "Farther Along," they meant every word. It came from a deep place within them which stirred my heart to sing and stirred my body to move with the same gumption! I didn't care that tears were pouring down my face. I was part of this village now! I also knew without a doubt, our boy would be okay. His village would continue to take care of him.
I know when living in community, things are not always perfect, but this culture has something special my culture does not have. I think that is why I was profoundly affected by what I witnessed that day. Don't get me wrong, I have a wonderful supportive family, supportive church and wonderful supportive friends. It is just different and that is okay. But I just love how this culture truly believes and lives out the Nigerian proverb, "It takes a village to raise a child." I hope we can learn something from this wisdom! I feel honoured to have been privy to this beautiful funeral filled with hope and peace.
PS I tell my Caribbean students that I am part of their "village" now so they have to listen to me! They don't know I'm part black inside! Look out world!
PSS I was also excited to be privy to the Jamaican food after the funeral! Curried goat and jerk chicken were on the menu and I bravely ate every morsel!
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