CPTnet
April 23, 2004

IRAQ: Abundant life

by Sheila Provencher

5-year-old Hussein sits with his father, Emir, along Abu Nawwas street
across from the Tigris River. Emir sells cigarettes and juice from a tiny
stand tucked against the gate of an abandoned building. Humvees and tanks
roar past. Across the street, nearly empty restaurants block the sight of
the river's dignified movement between shores littered with plastic bags and
garbage.

Hussein always runs to greet me with a smile, his little cheek tilted up for
a kiss. One day I surprised him with a box of crayons. Two days later, he
surprised ME when he ran behind his father's stand and emerged clutching a
10"x10" piece of cardboard. He had used a cigarette carton as a canvas for
a crayon masterpiece.

Hussein's picture teems with life. The Tigris flows a brilliant blue, and
pink flowers sway amid a blanket of grass. A donkey munches on a tree
bursting with orange blossoms, a duck contemplates a date-palm heavy with
fruit, and a rabbit smiles under a smiling sun. A flock of birds soars
within the stripe of sky colored across the top of the page. Two fish and a
giant duck swim through the river of turquoise, and what looks like a
bumblebee (as large as the duck!) flies over it all.

A few days ago, an IED (improvised explosive device) exploded not two blocks
away, shattering windows and sending a child Hussein's age to the hospital.
But in this picture, there is no broken glass, no guns or tanks or
helicopters, no presidential palace. Instead--abundant life. How did
Hussein see such a Garden in the dust?

. . . . .

It is easy to see only the dust these days. Daily reports describe attacks,
kidnapping, and hundreds of deaths. Our Iraqi friends are visibly upset at
the escalating level of violence across the country. "We are tired, so
tired," says Maryam, a young mother who has lived through three wars. "We
have suffered so much,and it is getting more frightening now."

Violence comes from so many places: the past regime, the US-led wars and
sanctions, resistance fighters who attack soldiers, terrorists who bomb
civilians, and Coalition troops who imprison thousands of innocent Iraqis
alongside the guilty, surround entire cities, and kill civilians in the
street battles with militia. And this violence is not just external . . .
violence is born in all of our hearts.

But this morning, as I sat on the rooftop above the city, a bumblebee landed
on my shoulder. Chickadees and turtledoves flitted about and chatted to
each other. Across the street, tall green rushes swayed on the banks of the
Tigris.

Maybe Hussein's picture is not so imaginary. Maybe we just have to NOTICE
the life that is already here in front of us, and draw it out, and nurture
it. How can we call forth the abundant life that already IS--in every
river, every animal, every heart of every person --to overcome the darkness?