When Sunflower and I landed in America, I said aloud, "Welcome to America. You have a Daddy here, and a house."
A man across the aisle added, "And clean drinking water."
His friend said, "And medical care," no doubt because he had witnessed with eyes and nose Robyn and I change no less than a dozen diarrhea diapers and were clearly transporting a sick child. Thank you, unknown plane companion, for being compassionate and not complaining!
A woman waiting to exit the plane chimed in, "We have education here."
Another woman, "And hamburgers. We have meat that you can eat here."
A hundred thoughts went through my mind then as myself and my flying companions were about to step foot back into America. What Sunflower was losing by leaving Africa certainly was at the forefront, but also all of the things she would gain-in her case, likely life itself-by moving to America.
I was struck last night listening to our Presidential candidates debate whether health care was a responsibility or a right. Huh. I thought the UN decided that sixty years ago with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, article 25:
"Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, housing, and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age, or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control. Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same protection."
Health care is a basic human right.
Teaching your children the Golden Rule is a responsibility.
Meat on the table is a privilege.
Unfortunately, these basic rights, as outlined in the UN Declaration aren't exercised around the world. There are many obstacles: lack of resources, lack of knowledge, apathy... If they were all met, Sunflower would never have to have left Ethiopia.
My travels have developed a unique perspective within me. For example, patent leather shoes on an 8 month old baby is not a core human right. It is an abundant privilege of growing up in America. In fact, I didn't see shoes of any kind on any child's feet while in Africa (in the villages outside of Addis, anyway). Here's my perspective: foot covering of some sort=right. Patent leather baby shoes with bows= privilege.
Sunflower got her first pair of shoes yesterday. I openly chastised myself in the store about how ridiculous it was to buy a baby a pair of shoes. What's she going to do, walk outside and check the mail? But I wanted her to have them. I want her to have all of her human rights: medical care, sufficient food, potable water, shelter; fulfill all of her responsibilities: try her best in school, use good manners, tell people about Jesus' love, and be a compassionate person; and so many privileges as well: a room to herself, McDonald's french fries, indoor plumbing, a washing machine, her own Bible in her own language, music, dance, and patent leather shoes.
They may not take her very far today, but as she grows and little black church shoes are replaced with tennis shoes for track, sandals for the beach, heels for prom, and cute Mary Janes for nights out with girlfriends, I pray her "feet are shod with the readiness of the Gospel of Peace", that she learns to walk in her Father's footsteps, and that she becomes a bearer of human rights to the least of these all around the world.
Each of the eight families chose fabric that "spoke Africa" to them, had the children of the family decorate it, and wrote an Ethiopian proverb on it. They were then all sown together in a quilt, and it's gorgeous! By the way, THANK YOU, QUEEN! Your sewing skills have made the commune a much more beautiful place over the years!
