11 PM - Christal Earle’s Blog

It was a speech that was crafted with love for a small little ragtag group of orphans and workers in northern Thailand, but it was a speech I wish she could have delivered to stadiums of people. To be honest, she never had the chance to give it to all of them, as time ran out and the evening never went as planned. But that night, when we returned to where we were staying, she shared it with those of us on Hero Holiday; and it has come to embody why we do what we do in Absolute.

Abbie is beautiful, both inside and out. She has amazing and expressive brown eyes, and she has a deep sense of compassion that is waiting for an opportunity to shine. She has been on a long road to recovery from many painful issues, eating disorders, and personal struggles. Hero Holiday became a last chance that evolved into a new beginning for her. With much deliberation from her parents, her medical team, and our staff, we decided that Hero Holiday Thailand just might be the best thing for her. Her life had been a blur of depression, self-loathing, and anxiety, but something changed when she had the chance to work for something bigger than herself. In that country, on that trip, Abbie learned how to love other people, and to love herself in the process. It had come to our final night on that trip, and that night, when she gave us her speech, we all learned to appreciate her even more.

 ”Many of you, I know, probably don’t know my name. But that’s OK. For all of my life, I thought I had it unfair. I have gone through many battles which would be too long and boring to share with you. However, what I’m starting to notice is that these battles, this unfairness, is what has led me to Hero Holiday, to Thailand, to all of you. 

“Some days I’d like to give up because my purpose, my reason for being human, has been lost and unknown to me. I kept thinking, ‘Why was I placed here or given these problems, while others can glide through life having no clue to what is happening around them or thinking only about themselves.’ I’m just the same as them. I came to Thailand to give myself a taste of what’s going over my head and it has been an eye-opener in which I will never, or shall never, want to forget. 

Even though we don’t share the same language, I want you all to know that it doesn’t mean less privilege or rights or that you are not special. You are all unique and inspiring people and I will tell you now that I’ll be talking non-stop about this community, this loving home, for days and days and days. Whatever story has brought you here is here to show you how wonderful you are. We are all a box of crayons. We are made, coloured and drawn differently but we are all crayons. And we are all in this together. You are never alone. This community is built by the strong love you all have for each other. And, although I came here for you, you have given me your passion for life, your courage, and your strength to keep fighting with a voice that I want to be a part of and support. I don’t care that you forget my name ( you probably don’t know my name now) or that my face will be erased from your memories. The only thing I want you to remember is that you will be constantly thought of and loved by each and every one of us at Hero Holiday.

Once your life has been touched by injustice, you are never the same. Once your heart has been captured, there is no turning back. When Abbie’s feet stepped back on Canadian soil two weeks later, they were the feet of a life that had been affected by change. She made a vow to let go of all that she had been harbouring in her heart and mind, all the self-pity and all the reckless choices, and she determined that she will never look back. She has stayed true to her word. The road to recovery may seem long, but with hope, purpose, and support it is navigable. Today, Abbie’s life is proof that our life is so much fuller when we decide to empty it of being so consumed with ourselves.

This is why we do what we do; every life that is changed is a life that can influence others to the same.

“There is a magnet in your heart that will attract true friends. That magnet is unselfishness, thinking of others first; when you learn to live for others, they will live for you.”~ Paramahansa Yogananda

It was so hot we could feel sweat rolling down our spines. There was no breeze, no shade from the sun, no clean spot to escape the dirty road under our feet. All around us, eager children grabbed at our hands and chattered at us incessantly in Spanish. We politely nodded and laughed at their antics, secretly wondering how long this little diversion was going to take. As we looked over our shoulder behind us, local people smiled and waved as they called out, “Hola!”, and as we looked in front of us, we saw the woman who was leading the way on this little trek: Sandra. The Mother Teresa of Agua Negra.

“Agua Negra” means “Black Water” in Spanish. It is a significant name if you consider the location of the community: sandwiched against the industrial harbour of Puerto Plata, tucked away out of sight, overcrowded and polluted, and built on top of an old garbage dump. In this place, poverty has raked open a gaping wound in the lives of those who are victimized by it. Narrow streets, filled with sludge and sewage become the passageways of all the inhabitants in the community and whenever it rains hard enough, the mud rises in the streets as the ground seeps out black water. Not exactly what you would consider prime real estate.

Sandra dreamed of something better for herself, her children, and the people who are relegated to calling Agua Negra home. Since that day, she has rallied help from around the world to build a school, a computer learning centre, a boys and girls after school facility, and has inspired some people there to start to make clothes and jewellery for a cooperative income. Absolute chose to partner with Sandra’s organization to build two homes for families that have been devastated by AIDS and other irreversible consequences of desperate poverty. Here in Agua Negra, when you build a house, you are literally putting it down on a foundation of garbage, hoping it will hold and hoping you will stay safe. And though it may not seem like much to the outside world, to the thousands upon thousands of people who call this place home, it is all that they can lay claim to.

In many ways, Sandra seems to be an enigma to me. I do not know how she decided to begin her work here or what led her to stay in this community, and I do not know how she continues to do so. She is a single mother of four children, but she is overflowing with faith and vision. As she walked among the community with us, I realized that she is no better off financially than the people whom she serves and works among in Agua Negra. Though she is one of them, she is one who chooses to point the way to a brighter future, one small step at a time - and she is loved in this place. Women confide in her, men respect her, children are drawn to her. All who meet her walk away being reminded of the power of compassion, one life at a time, and are struck with a deep conviction that you can never give up on people. Her life reminds me that love is never wasted. She knows each family by name, knows the ages of their children, knows their struggles and successes. And on that dirty, smelly road, Sandra taught us to love without saying a word.

We sat in the homes of families, sixteen adults cramped into one room shacks and lean-tos. We held hands of children burned by gasoline explosions, kissed the cheeks of mothers losing their battles with cancer, shook hands with men and women who were fighting AIDS, a disease they did not understand and who had chosen them without their consent. And that day, in that place, we saw a little glimpse of heaven on earth. Later that day as we drove away (two hours behind schedule!), we each felt like life was a little more precious, health was a little more appreciated, and love seemed a little sweeter. All of that was because of a small woman, who in a big way, has helped to be the voice, the hands, and the feet of hope and compassion.

Sandra, my friend, you are a beautiful woman, both inside and out. Your love for your community has both inspired me and challenged my boundaries of compassion and grace. Thank you. I never had the opportunity to meet Mother Teresa, but I have seen her spirit live on in women such as you.

Friendship is a gift. To some it is someone to keep us company, to some it is someone to help us through the rough times, and to some it is one of the pure delights and gifts of being human. We need friends. Since we started coming to Dominican Republic with Hero Holiday, I have become more acutely aware of how much I need my friends, and I have discovered how much I have to give them.

Fours years ago, Vaden and I were driving down a road that seemed to go nowhere: it was washed out in places, had almost no traffic except for the odd motorbike or donkey, and it had houses lined along the side of it, full of people who shyly waved at us as we rumbled along. Somewhere along that place we found a man with a  dream, and his name was Garcia.

Garcia is a musician, a husband and father, a pastor, and a man with a vision bigger than what was in front of him. Each day he would travel from his own village, Maranatha, to serve another community called Arroyo Seco. He believed in those people and was determined to help them move forward in whatever way he could. His life has been one of compassion in action. Along the side of the road there was a small area, about 20 feet by 30 feet, covered by four posts and a tarpaulin. All around the area, many feet out, was a trench that had been dug at one time, but was now covered in by weeds, grass and life. Five years earlier, Garcia had inspired some men in the community to dream of what a school could look like in that place. Together, they dug the trench and hoped that someday they might see a school for their children.

I remember standing beside Garcia that day, looking out over that small area and envisioning what could be: a school that could change the future of the hundred plus children in that community. The following summer, our Hero Holiday teams began to work with Garcia and the people in Arroyo Seco to accomplish this dream. The Arroyo Seco projects have been a labor of love that has filled our lives with laughter, warm memories, huge community parties, and tearful good-byes. In some way, it has changed us all.

In the summer of 2008, we put the finishing touches on the school. As we drove away, I looked over my shoulder and saw a bunch of children waving good bye, with Garcia and his family in the middle of the crowd, smiling and shouting out their thanks. It felt good to be a part of something so incredible. Over the time that we worked in their community, over 700 Canadian teenagers and adults had witnessed the fulfillment of a dream, and it inspired us all.

In late October of 2008, while many of us got together with friends and had Halloween parties back in Canada, Garcia, his family, and the thousands of people that live in Maranatha, his own village, fought for their lives and homes as they faced a flash flood. Many homes were covered under two to five feet of water and sewage, and many families lost every last earthly possession they had. Garcia and his family were no exception.  Like so many of the world’s poor, they were now forced to rebuild their lives and start over-at the beginning. For a while, they had nowhere to sleep. But they were not forgotten.

A Canadian missions agency offered Garcia and his family a new home in Arroyo Seco. They gave them a home close to the school and gave them more than they asked for. They are now high enough up a hill that they are safe from floods. But for Garcia, it is more than that; it is the reality of a dream. Now he is able to be closer to the people that he loves and he is able to be a stable part of a community he believes in.

Having people like Garcia in my life has helped to deposit deep convictions in everything I do. I cannot give up. I cannot stop doing what I am passionate about. I cannot quit just because things seem difficult where I am at. Though Garcia has told us time and again how thankful he is for our help in all that we have done in their community, I have felt like it is I who needs to thank him. His passion for a community to have equality ignited all of our lives that were touched through the experience. That same passion rings in our ears as we embark on each new project and endeavor to help our global community.

So, Garcia, when I see you again, I will tell you this in person. But, until then, I will put it in black and white: you are a great inspiration and friend, and your struggle is our struggle, your victory our victory. We are linked by a common goal and purpose that is deeper than culture, skin color and economics. We are in this together.

This year, Hero Holiday is back in the Dominican Republic, accomplishing many projects such as this. Please consider helping us to continue to see dreams accomplished.

Why is it that the thing we most need is often what we would never dream of asking for?

We found her and her family in a small cardboard hut on borrowed property in Baja California, Mexico. Just another casualty of the statistics: caught in an endless cycle of lack, frustration, and marginalization. They were workers from Oaxaca, a state of southern Mexico. Oaxaca is both blessed and cursed: It is culturally diverse, full of beauty and indigenous people groups, yet 76% of the population lives below the poverty level, earning only a few dollars a day. As a result, over 150,000 Oaxacans migrate to northern Mexico and the U.S. each year. Maria and her family are a part of those numbers.

To be Oaxacan in Baja California means to be thousands of kilometres from home, relegated to day labour in the fields of the Baja as an internal migrant worker, and to be always at a disadvantage in the society in which you live. To be in Maria’s shoes would be extremely difficult. When our Hero Holiday staff met her family, they described the living conditions as ‘beyond deplorable’: children without clothes, the only bathroom was a tire out front, and worst of all, their family had a secret that wasn’t as unknown as they thought.

Our staff wanted to build them a house, and yet kept coming up against barriers. Maria’s family had already overstayed their welcome in the tiny community they were barely surviving in. Money and provision that had been given them in the past had been sabotaged by her husband, and instead of providing for the family went straight to his addictions. Maria and her children were trapped: unwanted in the community and unsafe in their own home.  Andrew and Dawn, members of our Hero Holiday team, offered to bring Maria to a safe house for mothers and children that are trapped in abuse. Reluctantly and in fear, she agreed to come with them in a couple of days.

The next day, Andrew and Dawn returned to find an abandoned cardboard hut. Maria was gone. Her husband had discovered her plan and forced her and her children to leave immediately with him.  The search for rescue began - too much was at stake. When they finally found Maria, her husband had once again abandoned them in another cardboard hut, only this time their only source of food was the local garbage dump. They were filthy, sick, and hungry. Now Maria was ready to do whatever it would take. As our staff began to explain to them about Casa de Pastor, the women’s shelter that they wanted to bring them too, the little family got anxious. Maria had already had one son taken from her, and there was no way they were going to be separated again. But she knew they could not do this on their own: they needed to reach out and take the hand offered to them.

It’s a long drive to Casa de Pastor, and when you are fearful of what you will come to, the ride can be excruciating. Maria has spent her life growing accustomed to disappointment. Life has been one long, endless string of work, pain, fear and poverty. But when they arrived at Casa de Pastor, hope arrived with them.They were shown their new room with 5 clean beds, they had the relief of  knowing there would be three meals a day provided, and reliable and safe daycare while Maria is out in the fields working. Casa de Pastor has given Maria the opportunity to learn new skills, to be self-sufficient, and learn how to provide for her family in a safe way. In the future, as they are able to live on their own, we are committed to building them a new house.

One day, not so long ago, Maria’s deepest wish was granted: Andrew and Dawn brought her to be reunited with her son. He is currently in an orphanage where he is being educated and being provided for, and Maria now has access to visiting him and being a part of his life again. Their reunion was intimate and heartwarming. Maria’s mind could now be at peace.

In Andrew’s own words, his journey into Maria’s life has been one of insight:

I was going to tell her that she was going to be blessed with a house, but at this time that wasn’t the best for her.  Sometimes we think we have all the answers: a house, a car, other material possessions, but when you really spend the time and look into someone’s life there is a lot more that is needed.  In this case it was learning some new skills just to cope with being a mom and the bread winner for her family, which she has never done before.  This story with Maria is not over.  There are many new things to come.  A house, a piece of land, maybe a reunited family that can stay healthy, happy and have a hope for the future.

The cycle of abuse is a deep wound in every culture and economic level. Women stay in abusive relationships for many reasons, most of them motivated by fear for their children. Poverty only magnifies the problems and limits the solutions. For Maria, one small act of kindness on Andrew and Dawn’s part helped to give an entire family a future they could have only dreamed of before they met them. This story is our tribute to Andrew, Dawn, and all the other people in the world like them: people of compassion, kindness, and the willingness to reach out a hand to those who need it most. Never underestimate the power of your own life.

“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can read.” ~ Mark Twain 

This summer, Hero Holiday is going to be working in Mexico with many families such as Maria’s. We would love to have you join us. You can make a difference -you can be a part of change! To find out more about Hero Holiday, how to get involved, or how to become a member of our Hero Network, go to www.absolute.org