A Tragedy

a poem

Christ Praising The Widow’s Mite” (1310-1320) fresco located in the Katholikon of Hilandar Monastery, Mount Athos

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A Tragedy

When, years ago,
after that tragedy struck,
in the wake of it,
in the eerie settling
among the rubble
and the quiet shock,
between the wreckage
of the fallen porticos
and temples, not long after
the quaking had ceased
and the wailing hushed,
a news reporter came
to interview a woman
standing in the ruins
of all she had lost,
and we watched
as she smiled
and invited him to sit
and share a meal
from the little she had left

—

and he stood holding
this gift in his hands
and he wept,
and the world, watching, wept,
and I, too, wept
at this inestimable kindness
thinking, my God, my God

—we are all so hungry.

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Notes about the poem: The inspiration comes from real life events. Eleven years ago my husband and I were living in Nepal with our two year old son when a 7.8 magnitude earthquake hit, causing catastrophic damage through the region. The death toll reached the thousands. We spent nights sleeping on the streets with our neighbors through the numerous aftershocks. It was a very unsettling time. Reporters flew in from all over, humanitarian aid organizations, our own team partnered with one to pack food and supplies to haul out to remote villages in need. I remember stumbling upon this news clip vividly somewhere in the chaos of it all. I was 6 months pregnant with a toddler in tow, and we were all so tired, and this reporter was interviewing people in some of the worst hit parts of the city.

It’s worth noting that the Nepali people are some of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. They endure. They live in a place that is hard in a lot of ways, and yet they are generous and deeply hospitable. I have rarely met such kindness in my 39 years of life.

True to form, this woman he sought to interview had scraped together a little food and made no hesitation to offer some to him as her guest. She was surrounded by heaps of broken beams and fallen bricks in what used to be a home. This simple gesture, this small act of kindness was more than any of us could bear. She had lost nearly everything. I believe that moment changed that reporter forever. Scripture tells us the Lord’s kindness is meant to lead us to repentance (Romans 2:4) and while I can’t say that woman was a follower of Jesus (most likely not), I do believe that because we are made in the image of God, any propensity toward kindness comes from Him (no matter where any of stand spiritually). Kindness is a radical act in that sense, and I’m willing to bet the Lord knew he needed it that day. Eleven years…and I still think about it. May we all be met by such kindness at the moment of our need.

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