The sun is still rising at 7:30, and it casts palm tree shadows on the soccer field. The students have all jostled their way into their classrooms, a mess of lunch boxes and castle projects and blue polo shirts.
We sit on the picnic tables under the roof made of thatch, everyone in their classes or offices except a few lone gardeners sweeping, raking, watering. And us.
The sun hasn’t yet reached its feverish intensity for the day. The Indian Ocean blinks in the distance. The light filters through the leaves. It is indeed our Haven of Peace.
In a little while, all the elementary kids are on the basketball court, singing their hearts out. They are our background music. Oh happy day! Happy day! You washed my sins away!
We are a lowly band. It’s usually just Santosh, Melissa, Laura, Tracy, and me. We spread the lists out in front of us–every student, every teacher, every gardener and cleaner; and each Thursday morning we sit and we do battle over the names. Each week we tick more names off the lists, and by June we will have conquered them all.
And I can’t help but wonder, as we sit, relatively unnoticed, under the thatch, with our lists, what is going on in unseen places and hearts, as we battle for Peace in this Haven.
Comments