The Refugee in me

Last Friday a friend invited me to join her on a local adventure. it was not the kind of adventure filled with thrills and colour. It was an adventure of quite a different kind. Our local car guards at our local shopping center have been given one days notice for the termination of their 8 year work.

My friend had been approached by one of the women who told her the sad story. would I join in the small protest and support these people? On the Saturday I casually gathered up the family and we set off. I had not given the who thing much thought to be honest. We met with a few other locals and the car guards were there too.

We spent a good 2 hours talking and thrashing out the story with another good friend translating the french. The sad and broken story that emerged began to be sifted out and with each new arrival and each new explanation more and more of the concern and fear from the " car Guards" and more and more of my own selfish thoughtlessness was revealed.

For all the years we have lived in Bergvliet and fro all these years having shopped at this local shop, I had given little or no thought to the people who stand and watch our cars. They are there every day and all week, come rain or baking heat. They smile and offer help with heavy trolleys and bags. year in and year out I have smiled and waved at times but never really stopped to give much thought.

But this Saturday , we shared in a slither of their lives; their fear of loosing all they have fought for and the lack of care or concern those who benefit from their labour have.  It was a good morning with some great and hopefully real help from a local councilor. It was a time of good will from us the residence and a time for our children to see something of politics and helping those in need but it was also a time for me to stop and really see the people who stand and wait and watch and hope that we might give them something  - even a small R2.

When we left theses people who we came to stand alongside and try and help hugged each of us - they hugged our kids and were truly, truly thankful.  and now when we park to shop, their is more than a friendly smile and hello. I am praying that the meetings that follow will really  be beneficially for  them and that in some more real and permanent way they can continue to serve us.

This whole thing gave us some opportunity to share with the boys something about the war torn countries these people come from. DRC, Somalia, Rwanda, Uganda, and the like.   It was a great reminder that for many life is a war and survival is not certain. Lord please have mercy! It was a reminder that I need to try and see the person again - may compassion and kindness rule my heart again.For I am the refugee, the alien in this foreign land and heaven is my home.