I stopped wearing my gold chain when I moved to
Venezuela. I also started carrying my
purse across my chest instead of slung over my shoulder. I used an anti-theft device that locked the
steering wheel to the brake pedal, every time I parked the car. All precautions against petty crimes I had
been warned about. As the political,
economic and social fabric of the country deteriorated, the frequency and
severity of the crimes increased. If we
weren’t victims of crimes ourselves, we personally knew someone who was. All homes had bars on their windows and
several locks on the doors. Despite all
these security measures, thieves still broke into houses, cars still got stolen
and ordinary people were held at gun-point at the stop light and taken to the
ATM to withdraw all the cash in their accounts.
But we got used to living like that and developed habits and routines to
protect ourselves and maintain a certain level of tranquility; the most vital
one being prayer. Every morning as I
left the house to take the children to school, we would say these words of a
Bahá’í prayer for protection:
I have risen this morning by
Thy grace, O my God, and left my home trusting wholly in Thee, and committing
myself to Thy care. Send down, then, upon me, out of the heaven of Thy mercy, a
blessing from Thy side, and enable me to return home in safety even as Thou
didst enable me to set out under Thy protection with my thoughts fixed
steadfastly upon Thee.
There is none other God but Thee, the
One, the Incomparable, the All-Knowing, the All-Wise.
I was still living in Venezuela when the Columbine High
School shootings happened in 1999. At
the time I thought to myself, here I have to worry about being safe on the way
to school; there I would have to worry about my kids being safe inside the
school.
We moved back to Texas in 2001. Our home did not have bars on its
widows. There was one lock on the
door. Little children walked to school
by themselves. People parked their Lexus
on the street and locked up their junk in the garage. It was very easy to be lulled into a
sensation of safety. So much so, that
although we prayed every morning before going to school, we didn’t feel the
urgency to say the same prayers for protection as we did before. Then one morning in September, as I took the
kids to school I heard about planes crashing into buildings in New York and I
was reminded of the fact that a complete and total feeling of safety, anywhere
in this world, is an illusion.
Yesterday, more innocent people were killed or injured in San
Bernardino, California. People got up in
the morning, went to work not knowing that a horrible tragedy was about to
happen. Just as the people who were
dining out on a Friday night in Paris never thought they would be targets of
violence. But every day millions do live in real fear of violence. So what are we to do? How do we carry on with our lives? We can’t lock ourselves in our homes. We can’t stop traveling and going to work. It is a sad and scary thought to think that
there is no place safe in this world. Here
are three things I tell myself to keep going on with life with hope and
optimism:
1.
There is no safety but in complete and utter
reliance on God.
2.
There are more good and peaceful people in this
world than otherwise.
3.
What we are witnessing are the results of living
in a divided world and I can do my part by building as many connections as
possible with the people around me.
The Irish philosopher Edmund Burke says: “The only thing necessary for the triumph of
evil is for good men to do nothing.” And
as the good people of this world, we can all do something to erase all traces
of “otherness”, a little bit each day.
A more timely and poignant essay could not have been written. Powerful and hopeful. Thank you for making us think. And prayerfully, to act not react with fear, retaliation, hostility or apathy.
ReplyDeleteSusan, thanks so much for this beautiful and profound post!
ReplyDelete