Every day in June #9

Today ...

H, from Vietnam, wondered aloud why her life is so hard. Why did her husband leave her? Why does her 21 year old son have kidney disease and have to go to dialysis every week? Why did she have stomach problems two weeks ago and go to the emergency room and then get a bill for $4000? Why did she have to leave her home country?

F, from Afghanistan, brought her brother's paperwork and we looked over the Department of Defense form that will have to be filled out in order to try and locate his American supervisors. We came up with a list of things she will have to find out from him in order to complete the forms. His life is in danger. He just wants to bring his family to this country to be safe. F is desperate for any help she can find to help make that happen.

T, from Nepal, told me about her husband's friend's mother who died yesterday from blood cancer at age 52. There will be a three day wake which, she said, is very hard on the family.

How little it seems our sewing can do in the midst of problems like these. What a small thing it is to sit beside a woman and show her how to thread a sewing machine. And yet ... I have a waiting list of many more beginning students than we can accommodate in the new classes we'll add in September. Women who want to be in a sewing class  for two hours in hopes, of what? 

Full time employment at a living wage? I can't promise that.

Their own business to provide a fair wage income for their family? I can't promise that.

Solutions to the problems like the ones I heard today. I can't begin to promise any of that.

 But there are things that after three years of teaching sewing classes to refugee women I can offer ...

Teachers that will share the love of Christ in word and deed; who will offer not only their knowledge but their hearts.

Teachers that will patiently walk beside students as they learn new skills and show them over and over and over again, as many times as it takes, how to thread the machine, where to put the bobbin, how to sew a simple seam. As many times as it takes.

Teachers that will go beyond the classroom into their homes and become friends. Teachers who will walk beside them, trying to learn and understand their struggles and helping with needs as we are able or pointing them to others who know better than we do how to deal with their problems.

Laughter. I can offer them laughter. Plenty of it. And smiles. And hugs.

Creativity. I can offer them the opportunity to stretch their dormant creative wings, to try new things and not have to worry about judgement. I can offer encouragement support, and applause for their efforts.

I can offer a place that is safe and warm and welcoming, where hurts can perhaps be salved for a while to the rhythm of a sewing machine. I can offer that balm, and hope for healing for women who have experienced traumas I can barely imagine. 

Classes are over for this term for Make Welcome. We need a break to refresh and recharge, to plan and prepare, so that we will be ready for a new term of classes come September, when the learning and loving and growing will continue, Lord willing.

We can't pay hospital bills, or heal kidney failure or cancer, or bring families fearful for their lives to safety. But we can show up with fabric and scissors and sewing machines and instruction and love.  That's what we'll do and we'll wait, expectantly, to see how God will work in our midst

Apron pockets and creativity

In our Make Welcome sewing class this morning, we were taking a second go at sewing a simple apron pattern. We sewed these aprons last week and it went well, but it was a learning experience. Slow going. Lots of questions. This second time gave them more practice with the pattern and greater confidence in their sewing. What also happened is that their creativity flowed, their own ideas came out, and they designed and executed their own plans.

It's a simple apron, but the opportunity to design pockets the way they wanted seemed to be real victories for a couple of the women. One of them kept smiling and saying how happy she was today. Another worked quietly, diligently, with little instruction, figuring things out and expressing when it was time to wind up class, both pleasure with her project and disappointment that she wasn't quite able to complete it today. She'll finish her ruffle edged, rounded pocket first thing next class.

Another student, a dear Eritrean woman with the most beautiful hands, struggled a bit to finish up her first apron from last week. Her hems weren't terribly straight, her edges not quite lined up. She doesn't like to pin and doesn't seem too concerned with detail, but when she finished, her delight was palpable. "For me?! I keep??!!" she asked, glee apparent in her treble, chirping words.

I get to be the teacher. I get to bring (so much donated) fabric each week, to decide together with our other teachers what projects we will tackle, what skills we will focus on. I get to watch light bulbs of inspiration and creativity shine brightly as women gain confidence and skills and dare to try something different, to experiment with their own ideas and bring them to completion. Today it was apron pockets. Where will their creativity shine next?!