BRIGITTE came to America from Haiti six years ago, a bright and hard-working woman seeking refuge from a life of poverty and suffering. The mother of four, she took whatever job she could get to support her family. Today, she earns minimum wage emptying bedpans and cleaning up other peoples messes.
And until this week, she moved through the halls with an angry look, the kind that made you feel that even the slightest request, for a pitcher of water or fresh towel, would cause her to blow. I know because Brigitte takes care of my mother in the rehab facility where she is recuperating from a bad fall.
My mother is not always tactful. Being in pain and unable to control her world does little to soften her words. She tells me in a voice that is too loud, even for a cell phone 3,000 miles away, about this woman who is gruff, hostile and uncaring. I asked her about her family in Haiti who was there and if they survived but she just scowled at me and shrugged, like she couldnt be bothered to answer.
I try to comfort mom, reasoning that maybe it is too painful to talk about or that Brigitte is tired of answering the same question over and over again, but she cuts me off. Well, were all in pain, for one reason or another. She could at least look at me and say something.
We talk several times daily, so I wasnt surprised when the screen on my cell flashed mom even though we had just spoken an hour before.
Something very exciting just happened, she began, jumping into the conversation without saying hello. Something life-changing, right here in my room. I stopped folding laundry and waited; whatever was coming next was bound to be more interesting than the socks I was trying to match.
Do you remember the woman I told you about yesterday, the one from Haiti? Well, today, when she passed my room, she waved to me and smiled. So I waved back and later, when she brought in my lunch, she sat down and we watched the news together.
Uh huh, I said, my mind drifting back to the socks.
Mom told me about how they watched the screen as Haitian babies, nestled in the arms of exhausted Americans, and frightened children, clutching the hands of their soon-to-be- parents, stared into the camera. From Grand Rapids, Mich., to Pensacola, Fla., hundreds of Haitian orphans were being welcomed into the safety and security of American families.
MOM started complaining about the hamburger on her tray when Brigitte interrupted. Quietly, without invitation, she shared how since coming to America, she had become nothing more than the girl, a 40-year-old woman who was treated by doctors and patients as stupid or worse, invisible, as if she wasnt even in the room. Yes, she was a black woman who spoke English with an accent, but that didnt mean she couldnt hear or that she didnt feel. Americans had robbed her of her dignity and she had built up so much anger that it had poisoned her against us. But that changed for Brigitte after the earthquake.
When I see what Americans are doing for my people, my heart is filled with love. To take our babies into your families as your own, this I cant believe. Such beautiful people; such a country. G-d bless America!
Mom and Brigitte sat together a while longer two women, two mothers, who understood without speaking, the significance of this shared moment.
Then Brigitte squeezed moms hand and left the room.
If we could read the secret history of those around us, it would most likely fill the pages of our heart with enough sorrow to erase our negative thoughts and judgments about them. As my mother so aptly said, we are all in pain, and while pain is a relative condition, it has the potential to act as a common denominator for creating understanding among us rather than as a weapon to destroy the humanity between us.
In the aftermath of devastating tragedies such as the earthquake in Haiti, it is hard to find redemption in the rubble. But as Brigitte understood so well, acts of loving kindness, from the thousands of relief workers trying to save lives in Haiti to the many families adopting Haitian orphans in America, can help heal wounded hearts, restore hope and dignify humanity.
