So I took the girls to the doctor today for their check ups. It’s a wee bit stressful taking three kids in for check ups especially when one of them needed shots. But we made it, and as we headed out to the car, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. Here I had three very healthy, very happy little girls.
In between being stressed out and overwhelmed and terribly busy, multiple times a day I find myself looking at them in awe. They are kind, and they are smart, and they are absolutely lovely little humans. I make it my life’s mission to provide them with what they need – emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
This doesn’t make me special, and it doesn’t make our bond unique. Mamas all over this great big world feel the same way.
I was at the park a couple of weeks ago. My kids all went in three different directions as they normally do, and I spent the whole time there chasing both Mae and Goose, trying to keep them safe on all of the big kid slides. At one point, I was chasing Mae when I looked over and I saw Goosie about six feet in the air trying to climb a rope ladder. Just as I was about to panic, I saw another mom who I didn’t know stand underneath her and wait there, keeping her safe, until I was able to cross the park. I thanked her for her caring, and we went about our day. This happens frequently. Other moms look after my kids if my hands are tied, and I do the same for them. It’s what makes park play dates work. It doesn’t matter if it’s a friend or a stranger. If a kid is in danger or upset, you do what you can to help without crossing any boundaries or scaring anybody off.
It’s with that in mind that I watch the news these days. It’s with that in mind that I watch these stories of kids being sent to a different country, where they don’t know anybody and they don’t know the language. I see angry faces holding signs, screaming at these kids to go back home. That we don’t want them. That they aren’t our responsibility.
And I stand here wondering what is the difference. Is it because they look different? Because they speak differently? Is it because we are afraid that if we share what is ours that it will lessen what it is that we have?
I absolutely cannot imagine sending my children away from me. I can’t imagine having to live with the fact that I might never see them again. And I absolutely cannot even fathom what it would be like to be in a situation where sending them to a foreign land with foreign people is safer than keeping them home with me.
But that’s the situation too many women have found themselves in. Either alone or in their arms, these women have sent their babies here, to us, asking us to provide for them what they cannot provide in their home land.
And how are we going to respond? Are we going to accept the responsibility for these children and help these mothers out just like we do when we are at the park? Do we take a little bit of responsibility and say that we will provide for these mamas what it is we would desperately pray others would provide for our babies in these circumstances? Or do we say that you look different and you talk different, and therefore you are different? Your needs are lesser? Your worth is less? Your heart breaks into fewer pieces?
Perhaps we have a right to turn them away. To say our borders are closed and we will provide for our own. Perhaps part of our society would benefit if we did that. I don’t really know. But what I do know is that just because we have a legal right doesn’t mean that we don’t have a moral responsibility.
We are a country. We have laws and customs and traditions and beliefs. But more than that, we are a people. A collection of beating hearts and living souls. Which we choose to listen to — our laws or our souls — will determine much more than the fate of these mothers and children.
The news these days is scary. There are so many tragedies happening in every corner of our world. It can make us want to lock our doors and put away the welcome mat. But then I wonder which side has won. If we see evil and respond by withholding kindness, well then hasn’t the evil won?
There are battles going on in every country and every city and every soul on this planet. If we fail to pick up (nonviolent) arms and fight on the side of love, then haven’t we chosen hate? Does love close arms and look away? Does love say “go home”?
Or does love open wide her arms and welcome all regardless of price she must pay?
We are America. Our arms are large. Now we have to decide whether we will open them.