from Ames

4 births in 15 hours. all good. one of them was beyond beautiful. the young mother had lost a son in the delivery, and had one surviving daughter. i, ever the libra craving balance, hoped that this one would be another boy. her son was born easily. he slid into the world and let out a lusty cry. everything was perfect. i wiped him off as he gazed around the room in wonder. he had stopped crying and was instead taking in his new surroundings. afterwards i went into the courtyard to wash my hands and i found a young man waiting there anxiously. he saw us and we smiled at him, signaling that everything had gone well. he stood up and began to sing praise to God, for the safe arrival of his child, for his wife surviving the delivery. when he was done i bowed slightly and said "mabrook" (congratulations). joyce did the same and said "it's a boy". his face broke out in a huge radiant smile. he practically danced away to tell his family the news. i stood there and smiled. i took a deep breath and noticed that the rain had left a sweet smell in the air- like strawberries left in the sun.

in the last couple of weeks i have read some amazing books and i am going to share two excerpts that i think speak so much to the situation here.
the first one is from the book "night" by elie wiesel, about his experiences as a teen in the concentration camps. the author won a nobel peace prize and his acceptance speech is included in the end of the book. here is part of it:

"and then i explained to him how naive we were, that the world did know and remained silent. and that is why i swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. we must take sides. neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. sometimes we must interfere. when human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion or political views, that place must- at that moment- become the centre of the universe"

the next one is from a book called "the secret life of bees". it speaks more of my role here than of the situation at large:

""are you writing in your notebook?" he asked, his face and voice suddenly, oddly, desperate. i looked at him and nodded. ..... "come on, you've had your five minutes," the policeman said. august placed her hand on my back, urging me to leave. zach seemed as if he wanted to ask me something. he opened his mouth, then closed it. "i'll write this all down for you," i said. "i'll put it in a story". i don't know if that's what he wanted to ask me, but it's something everyone wants- for someone to see the hurt done to them and set it down like it matters".